


Sing Without A Song

by itsmadeofgold



Series: Rockstar!AU [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which an international rockstar walks into a small town gay bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Without A Song

****

Part 1: You Walked Into The Room  
(and the future came with you)

It was a pretty good night, Kris guessed. In general he was starting to feel _way_ over this whole scene (if you could even call the one gay bar in a small town in Arkansas a _scene_ ), but tonight his mood was high and he couldn't find much to complain about. He was on his fourth beer, feeling very loose and light, and he'd caught at least two guys he'd never seen before checking him out - nothing but good. Maybe he'd send one of them a drink. Hell, maybe he'd just grind up behind somebody on the floor tonight and see where it led, who knew? It was rare for him to be in this kind of mood, but he was in one now and relishing it.

Maybe next Saturday he'd go back to complaining to his friends that they should go into Little Rock for the night instead of back to the same old bar, or babble some more about how he wanted to move somewhere _real_ , but tonight he was bobbing his head to some good music, enjoying his buzz, and feeling wild. Maybe familiarity was good for him on a night like this, he thought. With the wicked energy he felt pumping through him he'd probably just get himself in trouble if he were in a town where there was trouble to be found.

He drained his beer, slammed it down on the bar maybe a little too hard and turned to hail the bartender for another. As he stood leaning against the bar, waiting for his drink, foot tapping the floor at twice the beat of the song that was playing, he suddenly felt a body pressing into his back. Kris turned his head slowly to see who was moving in on him - one of the new boys, maybe?

"Oh, fuck off, Anoop," he said when he saw his friend's smirking face, bumping his ass to push him off.

"Sorry to disappoint," Anoop said, smiling widely and coming around to lean on the bar beside him. "You seem a little wound up tonight, my friend. What's up?"

"Not a thing," Kris said. "Just a little hyper. Maybe it's the full moon."

"You need a guy."

"That _would_ be nice," Kris said, taking a long pull on his fresh beer with a wink at the bartender.

Anoop turned, leaning back to put his elbows on the bar as he surveyed the small dance floor. "See anything you like?" he said.

Kris shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. Let me get a little drunker and we'll see what develops."

"OK," Anoop said, reaching down to grab Kris by the wrist, pulling him toward the dance floor. "Come dance while you're waiting to get drunker."

Kris went willingly, sloshing a little beer on himself and laughing as he tried simultaneously to walk, dance and drink. Finding a good spot on the floor, he closed his eyes and danced with himself, turning in circles and forgetting Anoop was even there. He could see the lights flashing through his eyelids, feel the beat coming up through the floor as he popped his hips and shoulders, sipping his beer with a small smile. He opened his eyes once and saw Anoop grinding against Matt - they were getting handsy with each other and straddling each others' thighs as their faces alternated laughter and jokingly sexy expressions. They were pretending to be goofing around, but Kris knew there was an 93% chance they'd go home together tonight. They thought nobody knew that they did that, but it was pretty much an open secret.

He closed his eyes again and let himself drop low, enjoying the burn in his thighs as he brought himself back up slowly, his hips rocking. This wasn't his usual dance, but he was letting the amped-up feeling that only intensified with every sip of beer direct him, and the directions he was getting bordered on dirty. _Yeah_ , he thought, _I need to get some tonight._ He opened his eyes again, intending to look for a likely candidate, but the moment he did he stopped dead, his arms falling loose at his sides, beer slopping over the top of the bottle on the way down.

Kris shook his head briskly, closed his eyes tight and then opened them again, trying to rid himself of what he was sure was a hallucination. _Did somebody slip something into my drink?_ he thought, bewildered.

Adam Lambert had just walked into the bar. Kris's eyes insisted that this was true, despite the fact that he knew it couldn't be. He watched in disbelief as Adam smiled at a few people on the way in, scanned the room, sauntered over to the bar and hailed the bartender. Kris wiped a forearm across his eyes and shook his head again, but when he looked back Adam was _still_ there. He hadn't had _that_ much to drink, had he?

He turned and found Anoop, reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him away from Matt. Anoop came with a whine, trailing a hand toward Matt behind him.

" _What?_ " he said testily.

"Look," Kris said, gesturing toward the bar, where Adam was now leaning, his face in profile.

Anoop's face went from irritation to gaping wonder as he did a double-take.

"Is that... is that..."

"I think it is," Kris said.

"Holy shit," Anoop said.

"Yeah."

Anoop gave Kris a shove toward the bar.

"Go talk to him!" he said. "Tell him you have tickets to his show tomorrow night and that you want to suck his dick. Maybe say the dick sucking part first, I don't know if he's into groupies."

"Shut up!" Kris said, blushing and staggering backward like he was embarrassed just to have moved closer.

"Well, you have to do _something_ ," Anoop said. "You can't just ignore the fact that your number one rock god just walked into the bar. _Your_ hangout bar, for fuck's sake. It's gotta be a sign."

"A sign of what?" Kris said, trying to make himself stop gaping at Adam and failing. How had the whole room not stopped? How were there people who hadn't noticed, and how had the people who _had_ noticed continued acting like normal human beings?

"He's 45 minutes away from Little Rock. Why come all the way out here? There are gay bars there, you know. Lots of them. And better ones than this. You said you were feeling hyper, you've been acting like a cat in heat, and then, bam, Adam Lambert - _Adam fucking Lambert_ \- shows up. He has no business being here. He must be here for you."

"Oh, shut up," Kris said, shaking his head.

"Maybe he's here so that you can discover that he is, in fact, your one true love. Like you've always suspected."

Kris huffed.

"You'll never find out if you don't talk to him," Anoop continued. " _And_ you'll never get to suck his dick. Which would probably be almost as good."

Kris fidgeted, tried again to look away but found his eyes drawn back immediately. Adam was smiling at the bartender as he took a sip from a purple cocktail in a martini glass. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clingy grey t-shirt, shiny black jeans, and black boots. He was tall and imposing, his hair streaked with brilliant red and combed down over one eye. He looked like a page from a magazine, like an _alien_ here among the people Kris saw every single weekend. All these regular people. He looked like... like the dream Kris had been having nonstop since the first time he'd seen Adam on TV, over three years ago now.

Anoop pushed Kris again, but Kris pushed back.

"I can't," he said. "I can't. I can't."

"Look," Anoop said. "Nobody is talking to him. He's all by himself. You're _cute_ Kris. Really cute - and you _know_ you're exactly his type. He won't mind if you go up to him and say hi. You don't even have to tell him you're a fan, just say _hi._ Act casual. See what happens."

"What happens is that I make an ass of myself and live the rest of my life in horrified mortification," Kris said, frowning.

" _Or,_ " Anoop said, giving Kris another shove. "You end up taking Adam home tonight instead of some random douchebag. Or you get to let out all that pent-up energy on the one person you most want to. Or you fucking live your dream."

"Oh God," Kris said. He felt sick. "That's so cheesy."

"So are you," Anoop said. "Go."

One final shove from Anoop pushed Kris off the dance floor, and this time his feet kept moving instead of fighting the momentum. This time he walked until he reached the bar and set his now nearly empty beer on it. Adam stood about four feet to his right, still sipping his drink as he leaned, watching the room. Kris was trying to be discreet about watching him out of the corner of his eye as the bartender handed him a fresh beer with a knowing look.

Kris's fascination with Adam was not a secret. He wondered how many people were watching him right now and groaned.

He saw Adam's head turn toward him out of the corner of his eye.

 _Oh God._ His immediate urge when he realized Adam was coming toward him was to flee. If his legs had been working properly - they seemed paralyzed at the moment - he probably would've been out the door in three seconds flat.

"Hi," Adam said with a small smile.

"Uh," Kris said. "H-hi."

"Are you from around here?"

"Yeah, um," Kris tried to make eye contact but it made his brain feel like it was shorting out so he looked back over his shoulder at the dance floor. Anoop and Matt were doing some kind of ridiculous celebratory dance, whooping as they watched him. He fought back another groan. "Yeah. I am." _Brilliant,_ he thought.

Adam moved slightly, seeming to be trying to put himself into Kris's line of sight and get his attention back. As if he'd lost it.

"I'm not," he said.

"No, I know," Kris said. _Shit,_ he thought. "Um, I mean, I've never seen you here before. I'm here all the time." _Jesus God, I should just stop talking._

"I'm staying in Little Rock," Adam continued. "But I went for a drive... just felt like getting away, I guess. I don't even know where I am at the moment, but finding what seems to be a gay bar seemed like a stroke of good luck. I thought a local might be able to tell me where I am and whether this is the place to be."

Kris looked up at him and managed to maintain eye contact this time.

"Yes," he said, his mouth dry, not even sure he could be heard over the pounding of the music. "I think this is the place to be."

"Great!" Adam said with a bright smile, holding his drink up as if in a toast. "So. What's your name?"

"Kris."

"It's nice to meet you, Kris. So, you come here all the time?"

"Yeah," Kris said, feeling himself relax a bit, the ghost of his earlier exhilaration fluttering inside him as he realized he _could_ do this. He could just _talk to Adam._ "I'm kind of bored with it but, um. Just felt like going out tonight, so."

Well, he wasn't totally speaking in complete sentences, but he thought he was doing OK. He picked up his beer and took a big gulp, hoping that would help the situation.

Adam nodded, sipping his drink. "I'm Adam, by the way."

"I know."

"I thought you might." Adam smirked. Kris chuckled nervously, unsure what to say to that. The silence seemed to stretch out as Adam looked down at him, seeming to be waiting for him to say something.

"So, uh," Kris said, finally. "What do. Uh. What are your plans for tonight?"

"Oh, I don't really know," Adam said breezily. "Just wandering, hoping to find some fun. I get so sick of hotels, the same old madness all the time. Do you have any ideas on how I could have a good time tonight?"

Adam was smiling and holding Kris's gaze as he took another sip of his drink. Kris wondered briefly if Adam was coming on to him and then realized that, no, that wasn't exactly it. He was waiting to see if Kris would come on to _him_. Then, on the heels of that thought, Kris realized that Adam _wanted_ him to come on to him. It was almost like he was testing him, to see if he had the balls to do it.

Did he?

Kris brought his beer up to his mouth again, very conscious of Adam's eyes watching him as he wrapped his lips around it and took a long pull. His heart was pounding, the moment seeming to last forever as he set the bottle down and licked his lips. Adam's smile fell, his expression turning into something else. Anticipation. Challenge.

"Yeah, I think I have a few ideas," Kris said, moving a step closer to Adam, hardly able to believe he was doing it. His legs, paralyzed before, now seemed to have minds of their own. "Wanna dance?"

Adam's eyebrows shot up in a look of surprise that mellowed into delight when he said "yes, I do."

He reached down and took Kris's hand, leading him toward the dance floor. The feeling of his skin touching Adam's should have melted him, Kris thought, should've made him a quivering fanboy puddle on the floor. But it didn't. It was a lovely hand; a strong, soft hand wearing maybe too many rings. It was a boy's hand. A boy he could dance with, a boy he could flirt with. Maybe even a boy he could kiss. He was surprised at how strong he felt now, how in control he was. He was the same Kris he'd been at the beginning of the night, feeling a little more wired than usual, a bit more wild.

When they reached the dance floor the people there seemed to part for them, like they were afraid to get too close to Adam, like they suddenly didn't know how to behave with this alien in their midst. Kris wasn't afraid. He forgot that people were watching when he put his arms up around Adam's neck and began to move with him. He didn't notice that almost nobody else was dancing anymore, that practically everybody in the room was standing in slack-jawed awe that Kris Allen was dancing with Adam Lambert in their tiny dive bar. Even Matt and Anoop had stopped celebrating and just gaped, like they hadn't _really_ thought this would happen.

Adam leaned in to speak in Kris's ear so that he could be heard over the music. "I think we're kind of making a scene," he said, sighing. "And I thought I might be able to go unnoticed."

"Oh, they're not looking at you," Kris said dryly. "I guess you don't know I'm kind of a big deal around here."

Adam chuckled. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I play at all the open mics in town, so, you know. I'm kind of used to the staring by now." He sighed dramatically, a thrill going through him as Adam laughed.

"I like you," Adam said with a grin.

"Get in line, baby," Kris said, the sound of Adam's laughter and the sight of his smile seeming to strengthen his nerve.

Adam turned his head and laid his lips against Kris's jaw, just below his ear. It felt like another test, like Adam just wanted to see how he would respond. Kris stiffened for a moment, fireworks going off in his mind as his brain tried to send the message that Adam-Adam-Adam-fucking-Lambert was kissing him, but he fought back, forcing himself to relax and repeating that it was a boy, just a boy, a cute boy. When Adam pulled away, Kris turned his head to find his lips with his own, and Adam immediately obliged, seeming more than eager to do so. They pressed together gently at first - and oh, Kris's brain sizzled - then Adam's lips opened, forcing Kris's open along with them as he licked into his mouth. Kris sunk into it, a tiny whine escaping his throat as his mouth moved with Adam's and his hands moved up his neck and into his hair. _So soft,_ he thought disjointedly and wasn't completely sure whether he was referring to his hair or his lips. Both. Everything. Fucking _life_ was a feather bed at this moment.

Adam planted one more soft kiss on Kris's mouth as he pulled away, then put his lips near his ear again. "I think you should come to my show tomorrow night," he said.

"I already have tickets," Kris said, and Adam laughed again. Man, he loved that sound.

"I'll get you backstage passes," Adam said.

"Cool," Kris said, and pulled him down to kiss him again.

 

 ****

Part 2: Just Like The Ocean  
(always in love with the moon)

Kris wasn't so much drinking his cocktail as trying to be discreet about slamming it. It was his second, and he felt like he needed to get as much alcohol as possible into his system before he saw Adam again or it was going to be a disaster. It was possible that too much alcohol would make for an even _worse_ disaster, but since he didn't know how long he would be waiting, he had decided taking it too easy was a bigger risk than overdoing it. Before he was even done with his drink he was hailing the bartender back for another.

The show had been amazing. It was his second Adam concert, and by far the better of the two - the sets, the costumes, the dancers, the video screens - the whole thing was mindblowing and hypnotizing and even if Kris hadn't had his memories of the previous night creating monumental, blissful dissonance in his mind, he would've been lightheaded from it. As it was his whole body was tingling with a sense memory that seemed impossible - _impossible_ \- as Kris watched that ferociously sexy animal stalk the stage, wailing songs Kris knew all the words to and making his heart beat triple time with the way he moved, the way he touched himself.

Honestly, he'd spent most of the night expecting to wake up to find that it was Saturday morning, having to face the reality than _none_ of it was true.

And yet here he was in the VIP lounge backstage, surrounded by a few dozen other people wearing stickers just like his - _After Show Only_ , they said, over a tour logo designed around an image of Adam's eyes. As Adam had said goodbye to him last night he'd told Kris to pick it up at will call, and that it would just get him into the lounge, but that somebody would be by at some point with his _real_ pass. The All Access pass - that's what would get him into Adam's room. Kris kept looking down at the stupid sticker as he drank his free cocktails and tried not to pace - the letters "AL" were scrawled across it in black marker. As he looked around the room he didn't see a single other person there with those letters on their pass. Nobody else, as far as he could tell, was here on Adam's invitation.

Anoop had been kind of pissed that there had only been one pass at the window when they got there. Kris tried to be delicate as he explained that he didn't think his visit with Adam was the kind of thing Anoop should be there for. Anoop had grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"You're the one who said I should take my chance to suck his dick," Kris said huffily when Anoop's bitching got to be too much.

"You didn't get enough of that last night?"

"I didn't _get_ to last night," Kris said, trying not to pout.

"So what did you do, then?"

When Kris started talking, the words felt like lies, even with the memories so fresh and real in his mind. "We made out for like, ever," he said. "We sat in his car for a long time and kissed and... well, we kissed for a long time. He's good at it, too."

"That's it?"

"No, that's not it," Kris said, blushing a little.

"Dude," Anoop said. "If you won't give me details about hooking up with Adam Lambert, I don't think we can be friends anymore. Seriously."

"OK, fine," Kris said. "He jerked me off."

Anoop's mouth fell open. "He... Adam. He. You."

" _Yes,_ " Kris said, feeling as staggered by this fact as Anoop looked.

He shuddered a bit at the memory, the way he'd felt like his head was floating away from his body the moment he'd realized Adam was undoing his pants. How lightheaded and distant he'd felt every time he remembered _who_ it was who was touching him. He'd gone back and forth all night, enjoying Adam's mouth the way he would have if it had been anybody - any wonderful, strong kisser with sweet lips, any exciting and talented hookup - and then remembering it was _Adam_ and feeling like he was having an out-of-body experience. Finally, after some unknown period of time, when their faces were raw and they were breathless, Adam's hand had wandered down to where Kris's dick was trying insistently to bust through his zipper and just lightly grazed across it. Kris had gasped at that, but when Adam's hand came back more forcefully, squeezing him through the denim, he'd stopped breathing completely. One quick move from Adam's fingers had popped the button and a moment later he was sliding his hand into Kris's boxers and Kris felt like he was floating away. Gone.

It hadn't taken long at all, but Kris didn't think there was anybody on the planet who could blame him. He had come with a shout, spattering his shirt and Adam's hand and panting apologies. Adam had laughed softly.

"Don't be sorry," he said. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

That had made _Kris_ laugh. He had no idea what to even say to that, so he just shook his head in disbelief.

"You are, you know," Adam said. "I know you don't believe me. But you are."

"Well, thank you, I guess," Kris had said. "It goes without saying, but so are you."

"I don't think it goes without saying," Adam said with a warm smile. "It's still nice to hear, especially from somebody who seems to mean it."

"Are you kidding? Anybody who doesn't see how crazy hot you are needs professional help."

"That's your opinion," Adam said. "And I appreciate it." He had leaned in for another kiss then, and Kris had met him halfway, still reveling in the feel of Adam's lips on his despite the fact that his face was red and raw and his belly and shirt were a mess. He brought a hand up and rested it on the side of Adam's face, figuring that if it really was a dream it had to be close to over, wanting to take everything that he could get. It was then that he remembered that he had not repaid Adam's favor, and reached down slowly, tentatively to rest just the tips of his fingers on Adam's fly. His mind was a few steps ahead of him, and when he envisioned what would happen next, when he imagined the warm heft of Adam's cock in his hands, his breath had hitched into Adam's mouth.

"Don't worry about that," Adam had murmured.

"You don't want...?"

"It's OK," Adam said. "I should be heading back, really. And I'll see you tomorrow night, yeah?"

Kris had nodded, telling himself there was _nothing_ to be disappointed about. There was not a single thing about this night that existed in the same universe as _bad_ and therefore he should not be upset that it was over. _And_ he was going to get to see him again. How greedy could one person be? Adam had asked him then if he needed a ride home, but Kris told him he was pretty well sobered up and his truck was there in the lot.

He didn't tell Anoop all of that, though.

"So, did you... do him?" Anoop said.

"No," Kris said. "He said he had to go."

"Weird."

"I guess. He seemed... I mean, he sounded like he was looking forward to tonight, though. So. We'll see."

"Sounds like he really liked you." Anoop was smiling now, apparently over his hurt at not getting to mingle with the fancy people backstage now that he was finally getting the dirt on Kris's big night.

"I kind of think he did, yeah," Kris said. "When we said goodbye, he said _'I had a good time tonight, Kris. You're sweet.'_ "

"Aw, he said you were _sweet_?"

Kris blushed again. "Yeah. He was, too, though. Not really what I expected. So... nice, or something. A real person. And a cool one, at that."

Kris hadn't wanted to mention how he was really feeling, but he felt like it was pretty obvious, like there must be cartoon hearts floating around his head. Adam would've had to have been downright _mean_ to have lessened Kris's enjoyment of him. He hadn't expected anything at all - if Adam had ignored him completely at the bar, if he hadn't approached Kris, or even if Kris had gotten up the nerve to approach _him_ and then been shot down, he still would've walked out of there a fan. He would not have been surprised, nor would he have been hurt. All of his fantasies took place in the alternate universe where Adam could be his; having Adam _here_ , in the real world - even just seeing him up close - was more than Kris had ever dared to hope for.

The fact that Adam had kissed him, that he had touched him, that he had smiled and laughed at his jokes, complimented him and asked to see him again, well... it was almost too much for his heart. He tried to imagine going back to his regular life after this, dating mere mortals and trying to be normal again, and found that he couldn't. He felt like his life had been utterly shaken, his fantasies and reality mixed dangerously to the point that he didn't know which was which anymore.

Kris was draining his third drink, remembering the night before and actively trying _not_ to think about what was to come when somebody suddenly tapped him on the shoulder. He startled, then turned to see a blonde woman in a black dress with an impressive-looking laminated pass hanging around her neck.

"Kris?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "That's me."

"Take this," she said, handing him a pass that was the match of hers. "Come with me."

Kris hung the pass around his neck as she led him through the crowd to a door at the back of the lounge. They made their way through a labyrinth of hallways, stopping to show their passes to several security guards on the way, before knocking on an unmarked door that looked just like all the others.

"Yeah?" Kris heard Adam's voice from inside.

"It's me," she said. "I've got Kris here for you."

"Let him in," he said. "It's open."

She opened the door and gestured for Kris to enter, then closed the door behind him and left them alone.

Kris found himself in a large, beautifully appointed dressing room, but the details were lost on him as his eyes fell on Adam and stayed there. Adam was sitting on a long black leather couch, still in the costume he'd worn for the last act of his show: a black, sleeveless latex shirt and silver leather pants that left very little to the imagination, his hair spiked all over and full of glitter. His face was smudged and sweat-streaked, but the silver and black smoke swirling around his eyes was still striking. Kris was momentarily stunned, feeling like he was meeting Adam for the first time, like the night before had just been another one of his dreams.

Adam smiled and patted the couch beside him. "Hey," he said in a raspy voice, blown from vigorous performing. "Have a seat."

Kris did, moving slowly, searching himself for the confident, flirty boy he'd been last night, hoping he could be that boy again.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Adam said.

"Yeah, man," Kris said, eyes wide. "It was really great." He laughed. "That's an understatement, sorry. I can't even describe it. But yeah, I enjoyed it."

Adam smiled. "Good." He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch then, and they were quiet for a moment. Kris wasn't sure what to do, what kind of meeting this was supposed to be. Did Adam want him to say something? Should he try to make conversation, or was he just a handy groupie, an after-show treat for Adam? Kris didn't know, and though he was OK with whatever Adam might have in mind, he would've appreciated a clue to make him feel less awkward.

Finally, Kris began to worry that Adam was falling asleep. "Tired?" he said.

"Yeah," Adam said. "A little. But still so wound up... performing gets me so amped, you know. I'm just trying to calm down."

"You seem really calm," Kris said. "I thought you were going to sleep."

Adam chuckled. "No, not at all," he said. "Just concentrating on my breathing for a sec. Sorry."

"It's OK."

"Talk to me," Adam said, opening his eyes.

"Uh." Kris's eyebrows came together in confusion. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"You said you played open mics. Was that true or did it just serve your joke?"

"It's true," Kris said. "Not the part about being famous, _that_ was a joke. I'm mostly background noise wherever I play, I think."

"What do you play?"

"Guitar," Kris said. "And I sing."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Um, I do some covers... I like mashing things together, changing things. But I've also written a lot of songs. It's kind of... I don't know, acoustic rock, I guess. I don't know what the genre is, it's just what I sound like when I play, pretty much." He laughed.

Adam smiled. "Just Kris, hm? I like that."

Kris looked down, smiling, trying to hide his blush.

"Well," Adam said, sitting up. "I think it's only fair that you should play for me now."

"Oh?" Kris chuckled. "Are you gonna pay me fifty bucks, too?"

"Sure I will," Adam said, smiling. "When you've got two platinum albums and require two Mack trucks and a bus to transport your debauched circus from town to town." He winked.

"I guess you've got me there."

"Seriously, though, I'd love to hear you," Adam said. He reached over to the table by the couch and picked up his cell. Before Kris had a chance to ask him what he was doing, he was speaking into it.

"Hey man," he said. "Could you bring me one of your acoustics? No, not for me, you idiot. None of your business. Of course. OK, I _promise_. Thank you." He turned to Kris as he flipped his phone closed. "Sheesh, he's so protective. Like I would ever do anything to hurt one of his _babies_."

"Who?" Kris said.

"Tommy," Adam said. "My bassist. I would never ask Monte to loan me one of his guitars, but Tommy is eager to please." He smiled.

When the knock came on the door Adam rose to answer it. Kris watched as Adam took the guitar from the skinny blonde boy. They exchanged some words and Kris saw Tommy peeking at him over Adam's shoulder with a disapproving expression. Then Adam said "great, thanks for the advice," and closed the door, rolling his eyes.

"He's a silly thing," Adam said. "Such a worrywart. Cute, though."

"You think he's cute?" Why did that sting? _Get it together, Kris._

"Well, yeah. In his way," Adam said with a warm smile, seeming maybe a little touched by Kris's hurt. "But not really my type. " He handed Kris the guitar. "Do your thing," he said.

Kris settled the guitar across his knee and strummed it, checking the tuning. He fiddled with it for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to decide what to play. Beside the fact that he was desperate to impress Adam just because he had a debilitating crush on him, he was also aware that he was about to sing for a major recording artist and that this was _momentous._ It seemed like flirtatious play, like a getting-to-know-you game, but it also felt like an audition.

Finally he decided on an original, his fingers composing themselves to strum lightly. His nerves left him when his mouth opened to let the first soft note out. He felt good when he sang, because he knew he _was_ good. He might fumble when he tried to talk to boys sometimes, but he trusted himself when it came to his music. And though the audience he played for now was likely the most important of his life, the song was the same, and he knew it well. He sang about wanting to escape, about dying to feel free. He sang about the burning need to be himself and wondering who himself might be. It was a soft ballad that rose in intensity when it reached the bridge, crackling desperation coming out of his voice as he meandered into the final chorus. As Kris sang the last few lines he could hear Adam softly humming along, and goosebumps rose on his arms.

He strummed the last chord, then lay his hand softly on the strings to still them. He kept his eyes closed, looking down and attempting to control his breathing as he waited for Adam to say something.

"Mmm," he finally said, and Kris looked up, unsure what that sound might mean. Adam was smiling at him mildly. He looked vaguely smug, or maybe just satisfied. Happy. "That was really great, Kris," he said. "Really."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I do. Do you even know what you look like when you sing? Have you ever watched yourself?"

"No, I guess I haven't," Kris said.

"You should," Adam said. "Or maybe not. Maybe knowing would make you lose that... abandon. It's really something... it was really wonderful to see you go into that song, and then to watch you come back out."

"Thank you." Kris blushed, not having expected that kind of comment and not exactly sure what to make of it.

"And that's not even mentioning your voice, which I think you must know is just gorgeous. At least I hope you know."

"I'm a good singer, I know that," Kris said. "But I feel like an ass saying that to you."

"Don't," Adam said. "You're talented, and it's good that you know it. Also... sexy as _hell._ Damn."

Kris laughed, moving the guitar from his lap to lean it against the nearby wall. Adam reached out and touched his arm.

"No, really," Adam said softly. "Your mouth, when you sing. And your neck. And your jaw. And your hands on the guitar... you don't even know. _Really._ "

Kris looked up into Adam's eyes and saw earnestness there - an honest desire for Kris to believe - hanging like a curtain over the want that burned beneath. Kris had seen so many sexy sneers on that face, more hot-for-camera looks than he could count - they flashed in his mind now, like riffling through the collection of magazines in his bedside table - but this intensely open stare, this deeply human frankness set him on fire like none of them ever had. Because Adam was looking at _him_ like that, and was not even hiding the fact that Kris's performance had affected him, had made him want. That seemed completely backward to Kris, but also made him feel like electricity was coursing through him.

"My mouth?" Kris said. "My neck? Adam..." he thought that might actually be the first time he'd said his name out loud in his presence. It felt like admitting this was real, finally. "I _know_ you've seen yourself. I know you must know... I mean. Jesus, do you want to talk about sexy? Just watching you on stage, hearing you sing, feels like _having_ sex."

Adam scooted closer to Kris, the hand that was on his arm moving up to rest on his shoulder.

"You know what I like about you?" he said. "You're real. I know you're not putting on a show for me. Even when you were singing, it was really you, and it was obvious. I think we're the same in that way, and I like that. I'm real, too. And what you see on stage is really me."

Kris shuddered.

"Something wrong?" Adam said.

"No," Kris said hoarsely, the thought of the fiercely beautiful thing he'd seen perform just an hour ago being _real_ , and really sitting opposite him now, looking at _him_ like that, sending shockwaves through his body. "Just thinking about your show, and how much I was looking forward to it a week ago. If somebody had told me then I'd be here, I wouldn't have believed it. Just the thought would've made me... would've driven me. But now I'm." He was sweating now, his pulse racing, not sure how to say what he wanted to say, which was roughly _oh my God, I want you so bad._

Adam seemed to understand anyway, though, and reached down to put a hand on each of Kris's hips before half-directing, half-maneuvering him so that he was suddenly in his lap, straddling Adam's thighs, looking down on him.

"Kiss," Adam said roughly.

Kris did. He felt like an animal let out of its cage as he brought his hands up and dug them into Adam's hair, clutching tight as his mouth pushed hard against his. Adam didn't seem to mind his forcefulness, pushing back with equal enthusiasm and making a noise in the back of his throat that went straight to Kris's already aching dick. Adam's hands slid from Kris's hips to his ass and Kris made a squeaking noise he would've been embarrassed about if he had still been capable of coherent thought, which he decidedly was not. His hips started moving, grinding against Adam insistently. He wanted so much but didn't know where to begin, couldn't figure out how to manage the surging, unorganized need that spasmed through him.

"Fuck," he said. More kisses, and then again, "oh, fuck."

"Shhh," Adam said, bringing his hands up to run through Kris's hair, soothing and sensual. "What do you want to do?" He moved his mouth away from Kris's, started laying soft, wet kisses on his throat and collarbone, beneath his jaw, under his ear.

Kris panted, but he couldn't answer. Had no words for it. Instead he scrambled out of Adam's lap, groaning as he went, to kneel in front of him and fumble with his zipper. He found it straining against Adam's erection and gasped, his mind chaotically chanting _Adam, Adam, Adam,_ in time with the rushing of blood pounding in his ears. He was here and it was really happening and oh, God, Adam was hard for him and he had no frame of reference for a feeling this big.

When Kris got the zipper down Adam sighed and lifted his hips so that Kris could peel his pants off of him. Kris managed to get them just below Adam's knees before he couldn't resist anymore, his eyes and hands and mouth couldn't be diverted from the fantasy-turned-reality in front of him. How many times had he imagined this? His imaginings had nothing on this real moment, because when Kris wrapped his hand around Adam's shaft and his mouth around the head, Adam made a guttural noise that started in his chest and came out his mouth a growl, and it was so hot Kris shook from it.

His tongue worked furiously, licking up and down the length as his hand pumped, running around the head and lapping at the slit. The noises Adam made were sinful and low - he sounded almost feral - and his hips rocked up and down from the couch. Kris reached down and rubbed himself through his jeans, whimpering and moaning around Adam's cock, trying to maintain presence in this moment even as it blurred around the edges into madness.

And then Adam came, his voice going from a growl to a silky moan as his hips lifted off the couch and Kris felt the first drops hitting the back of his throat. Kris groaned and sucked Adam through it, rocking on his knees and swallowing. As soon as it was over Kris was clambering back up, climbing onto Adam and claiming his lips again, kissing his taste back into his mouth, every bit of self-awareness gone as he rocked and writhed, wild and undone from the sweetness of his life, the wonder of being himself in this instant.

Adam flipped him over, laying Kris on his back on the couch, continuing to kiss him as he reached down to undo Kris's pants. He kicked his own off before moving down Kris's body, reaching up under his shirt to rub and squeeze at his skin on the way down, before pulling Kris's pants down and away. When Kris felt Adam's mouth on his dick his body bowed, wound so tight that he could hardly believe he hadn't come already, knowing that when he did it would be cataclysmic.

Kris lifted his head to look down, and as he did he saw Adam's eyes flick up at him, their clear blue peeking from between dark black lashes and smudged makeup before fluttering closed again as he swallowed Kris down to the hilt. And that was it, that was all Kris could take. He was screaming, he knew - _screaming_ \- but he couldn't stop. It was everything, all his fantasies realized and obliterated all at once, and as his body seemed to burst into flames he could not have kept quiet if his life depended on it. He shook as Adam sucked him through his orgasm, and the trembling continued until Adam moved back up the couch to take Kris into his arms and kiss his sweaty temple.

And then Adam was humming in his ear, rocking him just slightly, and Kris felt dazed.

"You OK?" Adam said softly, after a few minutes.

"I don't know," Kris said. "I mean, yes, I'm OK. But I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"What's happening."

"Well, first you gave me a really fantastic blowjob, and then I gave you one, and now we're cuddling. I think that's about it."

"But I didn't expect. Cuddling? I mean. You're..."

"Just me," Adam said, laying another kiss on the side of Kris's head.

"You," Kris said, exhaling.

"And you."

"Yeah. Mindfuck."

Adam chuckled, then squeezed Kris one more time before sitting up on the couch. "I really hate to do this to you," he said with an apologetic look. "But we're leaving tonight... bus ride to Tulsa. I'm going to have to get myself cleaned up to go before long."

Kris swallowed hard as he sat up beside Adam.

"OK," he said.

"Hey," Adam said, putting his arm around Kris's shoulder and bringing him in close. "I'm really glad I met you. I think you're pretty great."

"I think you are, too."

Adam smiled, then pulled him in for a sweet, slow kiss.

"Have you ever been to LA?" he said when they broke apart.

"No," Kris said. "I've always wanted to go, though."

"I think you should," Adam said. "I'll be off tour in six weeks or so... you should come out and we can cut you a demo. And, you know. Whatever." He winked.

Kris's mouth dropped open, then curved into a bright smile. "Yes," he said. "I like that idea."

"I like _you_ ," Adam said.

Kris wanted to say _I like you, too_ or _thank you_ but neither of those things seemed to express what he was really feeling - he wasn't sure there were words in the English language that could - so instead he just leaned in, resting his head on Adam's shoulder and pressing his lips softly into his neck. He could feel Adam's pulse against his mouth, feel his body rise and fall with the slow rhythm of his breath, smell the sweet tang of sex and sweat on his skin. He closed his eyes and smiled.

 

 ****

Part 3: Time Will Be The Thief  
(and your fallen king will end up alone)

It wasn't that he was heartbroken.

He was disappointed and sad and embarrassed, more than anything. Maybe embarrassed most of all, but _the worst thing_ kept changing in his mind. Every time he thought about it - which was often enough that he was embarrassed at that alone - there was a new _worst thing._

It was almost Christmas, and Kris hadn't heard from Adam at all. Not so much as a text. The tour had ended the last week of August with a show in Orlando, and Kris had anticipated that date fiercely, practically counting down to it like it represented a major event in his life. He was impatient but understanding afterward, as the first several weeks went by without hearing from Adam. He'd been able to rationalize the lack of contact throughout the rest of the tour by repeating to himself that Adam was busy and sought-after (not to mention nothing close to being his boyfriend), and that he'd never _said_ he'd keep in touch throughout the tour. He had only said he'd call when it was over, that he'd like Kris to come out to LA then. So it wasn't until after the tour ended that he started really watching his phone. And it wasn't until September was almost over that he started wondering if he was going to hear from Adam at all.

It wasn't until Halloween that he began to try to break it to himself that maybe he never was. By Thanksgiving, he had stopped watching his phone.

And now it was December, and the internal monologue that he could never quite turn off centered almost entirely on trying to decide what the worst thing was.

The worst thing was the humiliation. Kris had told Matt and Anoop what Adam had said; he had been vibrating with excitement after his meeting with Adam in the dressing room and just could not contain himself. He went on and on about how he had sung for him, how Adam had loved it, how... how he had _cuddled_ him and treated him like a lover, how he had said he wanted to see him again. How he had offered to help him make a demo. How they had seemed to make a connection and how it was more than Kris had ever imagined it could be. That it felt real. When he thought back on that conversation now he cringed, because he had been so nakedly excited and his friends had looked at him with expressions both pleased and indulgent, like they were happy for him but didn't really believe it. But Kris had thought, _oh, they'll see,_ because _he_ knew it was true.

They had told other people, too. The story had gotten around. He'd been asked by friends and acquaintances alike - people he'd never talked to about it - if he'd heard from Adam yet, if he knew when he was going to LA. At first he didn't mind, because hell, he could help being proud of it. But then time had passed, and the questions got irritating and he wished nobody knew. And then he started being a little snippy about it and people stopped asking, and instead just looked at him with pity and asked him how things were going. He hated that.

But what he hated even more was Anoop's constant calling him and trying to get him to go out. The last place he wanted to be was the bar, where he was the most likely to get the questions and the looks. The last thing he wanted to hear was Anoop saying he needed to "get over it" one more time, because Anoop just didn't _get_ that it wasn't about heartbreak, it was about embarrassment. And... and about shame.

Maybe the shame was the worst part, really.

Kris felt ashamed of himself for letting himself believe in... whatever the thing with Adam was. He could have easily - and happily - just spent the time he was given with Adam enjoying it for what it was. He wouldn't have minded just being Adam's boy while he was in town, he would've taken those memories gladly and relished them. It would've been special enough - he didn't need to believe there was anything more there. He felt sick at the thought of having been so naive, so excited about what he had taken to be a promise. Why was he such an idiot? He felt like he'd been used - played with - and stupid for letting it happen. Which in turn made him feel angry.

And really, the anger was the worst part. Because Adam hadn't _had_ to make Kris believe there was more. He could've said "thanks, had a great time," and been on his way. He didn't have to ask Kris to sing for him. He _certainly_ didn't have to say he'd help him record a demo. And most of all, he didn't have to wrap his arms around Kris and kiss his temple, he didn't have to hum into his ear and soothe him. He didn't have to make Kris feel like there was a connection there, like Adam cared about him as more than a hookup. If he'd treated him like a hookup, Kris could've been OK with that and moved on, but instead he had made him wait and hope. He'd made Kris jump every time his phone rang, made him hate himself more and more for it as time went on. Made him cringe at the sound of its ring, eventually. Adam had made Kris envision a future for himself different from anything he'd thought possible before. He didn't assume he'd be with Adam forever and he didn't imagine himself to be Adam's main priority, but he thought if he could get to LA and make a demo, he could just stay there and shop it around. And you never know, maybe... _maybe_.

Kris hated Adam for giving him those possibilities and then taking them away.

And that was the _worst_ part. Hating Adam was horrible. Kris didn't want to hate Adam; he had always loved loving him. He _missed_ loving him. He'd had so many dreams about him, so many elaborate and gorgeous fantasies about this beautiful, impossible man. They were lovely and harmless and made him happy, and now they were gone. Maybe losing them was the worst part. Except it wasn't, because now instead of fantasies he had _memories_ , and that was even worse. Kris could close his eyes and feel Adam's mouth, his hands, his skin, his breath. He could remember every kiss and touch, every noise Adam had made and every one he'd wrenched from Kris. And where the fantasies had been a beautiful safe place for Kris, the memories were nothing but hurt.

And the fantasies weren't all he'd lost. He'd also lost his song, and that was the worst part. He couldn't sing that song anymore; whenever he tried he imagined Adam's smile when Kris had played the last chord for him and opened his eyes. He remembered Adam's voice softly humming as he sang, remembered the thrill that had gone through him when he'd realized he wasn't just singing _for_ Adam, but with him. Now that song was just a dirge to something that had never really been, stripped forever of its original intent and meaning, and Kris couldn't find the energy or the will to try to reclaim it. He just counted it as another loss.

So, OK. Maybe he _was_ heartbroken. But feeling heartbroken just made him feel pathetic and stupid, which made him embarrassed, which made him angry, which made him sad. And, seriously, fuck the whole thing. Kris was so sick of thinking about it he could scream. He just couldn't manage to stop.

He kept remembering the moment Adam had programmed his number into his phone. Kris had rattled it off to him in a daze, realizing that the very first time Adam called him, he'd be able to type "Adam Lambert" into his contacts. That seemed so monumental, it didn't even occur to him that he could ask for the number right _then_ ; he'd never even considered that reciprocation here would be appropriate. He'd just given Adam his number and trusted that he would call. He guessed Adam probably wouldn't have given him his number even if he'd asked for it, though, especially now that Kris couldn't stop wondering if Adam had even really put his number in there. Maybe he'd entered a blank, or maybe he'd saved the number as "do not call." Maybe he'd just been pretending. But why would he do that? What would be the point? He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would be so casually cruel, but then Kris probably knew a lot less about him than he thought.

Maybe he'd just forgotten about him completely. Kris imagined Adam someday going through his contacts, seeing his name and saying "Who the hell is Kris Allen?" and deleting it. That was the worst.

It didn't help that everywhere he looked, Adam was there. When he had gone out for coffee today, there Adam had been staring up at him from the magazine rack. Another cover of _Rolling Stone_. It was a close-up of his face, his black hair with its flame-red streak combed forward over his eyes. He was staring up through the strands, his eyes smokey and intense. His tongue was peeking out, licking his lips. His shoulders were bare, and the background was red and black satin, like he was laying on a bed and looking up. The overall effect was like a punch to Kris's gut. Just like every time he saw him on TV, every gossip show blurb about him, every time his videos came on MTV, every awards show appearance.

The worst thing was that he couldn't escape Adam.

So why the fuck did he buy the damn magazine?

Here he was on a Saturday night, sitting on his couch, staring at Adam's face on the cover of _Rolling Stone_ , going through his pathetic-embarrassed-angry-sad loop and trying to ignore the sound of his phone ringing. It was just Anoop trying to get him out, and he was _so_ not interested in having that conversation again. Someday he'd sort this thing out, shake it off and be normal again. But someday was not today, as much as he wished it could be. Today he was facing off with a magazine that made him feel full of rage and loss, and was hating himself for both things.

The headline on the magazine was "In Bed With Adam Lambert." Kris kind of wanted to laugh at that, but couldn't manage it. He also wanted to open the stupid thing and look at the other pictures and read the article, but he hadn't managed that yet either. He sighed and stood up, throwing the magazine onto the couch. This night was worthless, he decided, and it was time to put an end to it. He headed down the hall toward his bedroom, turning off lights as he went, hoping that sitting alone in his apartment doing battle with a glossy picture was his rock bottom and that he'd wake up tomorrow on an upswing.

He didn't so much as glance at his phone as he walked away.

\---------

As Kris stumbled down the hall into his living room, the phone was ringing and he had no idea what time it was. He had a feeling he'd slept late; judging by the light pouring in the windows it was probably getting close to noon, and he groaned a bit at that. Going to bed early and then sleeping half the day didn't really strike him as "upswing" type behavior. _Oh well,_ he thought, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the phone, _maybe this just means I'll be well-rested for a good day._

A little positive thinking couldn't hurt, right?

"Hello?" he said, trying not to sound sleepy.

"Hey man," said Anoop. "How's it going?"

"Not bad, I guess," Kris said. "I was just about to call you back."

"Call me back? For what?"

"Last night. The phone was ringing just when I was gonna go to bed, but I was kind of wiped and figured I'd just talk to you today. What's up?"

"I didn't call you last night," Anoop said. "Matt and I ended up just coming home after dinner, we didn't even go out. Watched a movie. You know." _Yeah,_ Kris thought. _I know._

"Huh," Kris said.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to grab lunch with us in a bit. We're thinking Tito's. Up for it?"

"Yeah, sure, man," Kris said. "What time is it?"

Anoop laughed. "Just after eleven right now. Did you just wake up?"

"No," Kris said, in a tone that clearly said _yes, want to make something of it?_ Anoop laughed again. "Anyway, yeah, lunch sounds good. See you there in an hour?"

"Right on," Anoop said.

Kris flipped his phone shut and put it down before heading to the kitchen. He was yawning and fumbling with the coffee filters when he remembered that he should probably check his phone - nobody but his friends would call him so late in the evening, and if there hadn't been anything going on at the bar last night he couldn't imagine who could have been trying to reach him. His stomach dropped when he considered that it could've been his mom or some other family member - they wouldn't call that late unless something was wrong. He dropped the filters and turned to head back to the living room, grabbing his phone off the arm of the couch where he'd left it. His eyes flicked over to the magazine that was still lying there, and he reached over to hastily flip it face-down as he opened his phone.

 _Unknown Caller_

 _Voicemail: 1_

He just stood there staring at it for a few seconds. He wondered if he was late on any bills, if this could be a collection thing. That had happened before. He knew he wasn't, though, and that that wasn't it at all. Finally he pushed the button to call voicemail and put the phone to his ear, his body breaking out in goosebumps when the message started to play.

 _Hey, Kris, it's Adam! Remember me?_ He laughed there, and Kris simultaneously thought how gorgeous his laugh was and how pompous he sounded. _Give me a call when you get this! Bye._

That's _it_? Kris thought, then listened to it again. After all this time, he gets _give me a call_? And he didn't even mention the fact that he'd been home from tour for four months, that it had been almost six since he'd seen Kris. No "sorry it's taken me so long," or "man, things have been crazy lately." Nothing. Just _give me a call._ And his stupid little laugh... oh sure, of _course_ Kris remembers him, there'd been no question of that, had there? The question was whether Adam would remember Kris, wasn't it? Kris chuckled bitterly.

Took him long enough.

Kris exhaled, throwing his phone down on the couch beside the magazine and then just staring at it for a moment as he ran his hands through his hair. He decided to skip coffee and just get ready for his lunch. He turned, heading back down the hall toward his bedroom to get dressed.

\--------

"Oh my God!" Matt said, his eyes looking like they were about to pop right out of his head. "Did he answer when you called him back? What did he say?"

"I didn't call him back," Kris said, taking a bite of a salsa-dipped chip and looking around for the waiter. He was ready to order.

"What? Why not?" Anoop said.

"Because I don't want to," Kris said, shrugging. "I'm mad at him."

"What? What for?"

"Where've you been the last few months, man?" Kris said. "I've been kind of screwed up about this whole thing, and him calling out of the blue four months later and saying _give me a call_ isn't going to just take that away."

His friends both gaped at him for a moment before Matt finally said, "have you lost your damn mind?"

"No, I haven't. I think I'm being very rational."

"Adam Lambert called you."

"Yes."

"And you're not calling him back."

"I didn't say I wasn't going to call him back _ever,_ " Kris said. "But no, I didn't immediately call him back the second I got the message. Which was just like an hour ago, by the way, so I don't think that counts as losing my damn mind."

"Let me hear the message," Anoop said, reaching out to Kris with gimme hands. Kris pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed into his voicemail and handed the phone to Anoop. Matt leaned over to put his head against Anoop's so they could both listen. When it was over, Matt shrugged.

"I don't see what's so offensive about that message," he said.

"You don't see what's so offensive about leaving somebody a message four months after you said you'd call, with no explanation whatsoever or even _acknowledgment_ that it's four months later? Nothing at all?"

"He's a rock star, dude," Matt said. "He's got better things to do than keep in touch with all his hookups. Sorry if that hurts your feelings or whatever, but you should be happy he called you at all."

Kris shook his head. "Well, I'm not just happy that he called," Kris said. "And if that means I'm crazy, whatever. I don't care. The reason I liked him and _wanted_ him to call was because he treated me like a real person, and didn't act like a rock star around me. If he'd wanted me to just blow him he could've said so and I would've done it with a happy fucking smile on my face. That's not what he did and it's not why I gave him my fucking number, and I can't be that guy now. It's too late for it. So either he's real with me or I'm not interested."

"You _are_ crazy," Anoop said. "Seriously. That's some of the dumbest shit I've ever heard."

"Your opinion," Kris said, sipping his water.

"You have to call him back," Matt said.

"I probably will, eventually," Kris said, sighing. "I don't see the harm in making him wait a little bit, though."

"He's not your boyfriend," Anoop said. "It's not like he owes you anything. I don't get why you're so pissed about this. He left you a voicemail, he obviously wants to talk to you. Why play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing," Kris said. "I just... I either want to be something to him, or nothing. I thought I was something for a while, and then I realized I was an idiot for thinking that, and I've been spending the last long while trying to get used to being nothing again. Which has been hard, you guys, sorry. I know you don't get it. But trust me on that, OK? I don't want it to be a roller coaster... I don't want to start this whole process over again tomorrow, because it has sucked. And I'm just... ready to be done with it. I don't want to talk to him once and then be right back to waiting for him again. He might... he might be _Adam fucking Lambert_ , but he's just a guy who blew me off to me now, and I am not interested in that kind of game."

"Maybe he wants you to come to LA, finally," Anoop said.

"Yeah? Why now, all of a sudden?"

"I guess you won't know unless you call him, will you?"

"No, I guess I won't."

The waiter approached the table to take their order, and Kris did his best to keep the subject as far away from Adam Lambert as he could for the rest of the meal. He didn't completely succeed, and Matt and Anoop told him he was crazy a few more times and he tried to brush them off and hold his ground, but he was beginning to wonder if maybe he _was_ crazy.

As he said goodbye to them and left the restaurant, Kris walked toward his car considering his position. Everything in him was saying that Adam was _human_. A person who was well-known, but still a person. Yes, he had a fabulous life and his schedule consisted of concerts and photo shoots and interviews and studio time. He hung out with famous people and had money and a fast car and was stalked by the paparazzi. But despite his extraordinary circumstances, he was still just a _guy_. Yeah, Kris imagined he was busy. He was sure he had a million things to do. But was he so busy that he couldn't find five minutes to make a phone call? Was Kris being a big stupid baby by being hurt that he hadn't? Adam knew what his life was like, if he thought there was no chance he'd have time to bring Kris out, to so much as talk to him on the phone, _why had he said he would_? As far as Kris could tell, that was a lapsed promise, and being famous didn't excuse it. Being famous didn't make Kris any less hurt at being forgotten. Kris was only human, too.

But why did that message piss him off so much? Back when he'd still had hope that Adam would call, he had always imagined doing a joyful jig when he finally heard his voice on the phone. Even in October, November, when things were getting bleak and Kris's mood was approaching bedrock, he _still_ always hoped for Adam to call. He still always thought that would make him happy. So why now was he so angry about it?

Because he'd been miserable with regret, Kris thought, while Adam just sounded happy and breezy as could be. As if he hadn't shaken Kris's world and made it miserable with a casual encounter.

Because that five second voicemail made clear that Kris had been the only one damaged. Because Kris had nothing to damage Adam _with_ , and he was at Adam's mercy.

He didn't like that feeling. Yeah, he'd been starstruck at first. But Adam brought himself down to earth in Kris's eyes over their short time together and become a _boy_ , just a boy who had casually hurt him and then proved with a belated phone call and way too-short message that it hadn't affected him a bit.

Kris got into his car and started it, turned on the radio and started driving. He drove around town for a while, then hit the highway and drove some more. He wasn't heading anywhere in particular; he just listened to music, switched the station when Adam came on, sang along to some old favorites, and tried to clear his mind. He lost track of time and eventually realized he was very far from home. He didn't want to go back, but running didn't seem to be helping all that much when his phone was still in his pocket, heavy with Adam's phone number.

It was late in the afternoon when he pointed the car back toward home, and after sunset when he pulled into his apartment complex.

As he walked into his living room he saw the magazine laying on the couch and sighed. He remembered the night before, feeling like he was _fighting_ that stupid thing. So now was he going to spend a night fighting a magazine _and_ his phone? What was the point of all of this?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone as he plopped down on the couch. Looking down at it, he realized there was no point in making Adam wait, because Adam wouldn't even notice. Kris was holding out when he had nothing to withhold. He was only making _himself_ wait, and he would never know what the hell had made Adam call him all of a sudden if he didn't call him back. Maybe talking to Adam would be good, he thought. Maybe it would be better closure than the hollow satisfaction of not jumping when Adam said hop.

Kris startled when his phone started ringing in his hand. His mouth dropped open in surprise when _Unknown Caller_ came up on the screen. As he shook his head in disbelief, he also chuckled a bit: so he _hadn't_ ended up reverently saving Adam's number the very first time he called. Go figure that.

He took a deep breath, then opened his phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said, almost satisfied with the level of calm he projected.

"Hey. Is this Kris?" Adam sounded a little less bubbly this time.

"Yeah. Hey, Adam."

"Hey," Adam said again, an odd, questioning note to his voice. "You OK?"

"Fine, yeah," Kris said, fiddling with his shirt now and pretty much completely at a loss for what to say. "You?"

"Good, good," Adam said. "Um, did you get my message?"

"I did. I was sleeping when you called but I got it this morning."

"You didn't call me back."

"I was just about to, actually," Kris said.

"Oh, cool," Adam said. "I guess I got kind of impatient." He laughed, soft and quick. Just a little awkward.

Kris stood up, running one hand through his hair. He started to pace, doing slow laps around his coffee table.

"Not used to waiting, I guess," he said.

"No, I guess I'm not," Adam said. Kris could hear the confusion rising in his voice, could practically see his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to figure out what was happening in this conversation.

There was a stretched out moment of silence, but Kris forced himself not to be the first one to speak.

"So," Adam said, finally. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really," Kris sighed. This wasn't going well at all. "Um, listen, is there a reason you called?"

"Well, yeah," Adam said. "I... well, I said I would, right?"

"Yes, you did say you would. But I had kind of given up hope on that, so."

"Oh," Adam said. "Yeah... my schedule is nuts, man, you wouldn't believe the way time flies past me."

"I bet."

"Are you really mad?"

Kris exhaled loudly, shrugging despite the fact that he knew Adam couldn't see him. "Well," he said. "I guess I kind of am, yeah."

"I thought you'd be happy to hear from me," Adam said. "I didn't think... I mean, I didn't know there was like an expiration date."

"You called me last night, and then when I didn't call you back you tried me again less than 24 hours later; you just said you were getting impatient. You said you'd call me when you got home in _August._ "

"Hey," Adam said, a little louder now, sounding a bit irritated. "My life isn't simple, OK? You need to understand that I have about a billion things going on every single day, the fact that I can remember where I live on a daily basis is a miracle. A few months go by and it seems like days. I didn't... I didn't tell you I'd call you the second I got home, alright? I just said that I would. And now I have."

"OK, fine," Kris said. "Great."

"What do you want me to say?"

"'I'm sorry' would be a good start."

"Well, OK, I'm sorry that you had to wait. But seriously, what did you think was going to happen?"

"Not this. I guess I thought you were serious. Scratch that... I don't know _what_ I was thinking."

"I _was_ serious. Kris, I'm on the phone right now. Would you rather I hadn't called? Do you want me to hang up? Because seriously, I don't need somebody else to fight with."

Kris hung his head, stopping his pacing as he rubbed his forehead. "No," he said. "I don't want you to hang up. I just."

"What?"

"Well," he took a deep breath. "You said that you liked that I was real, right?"

"Yes, I do like that."

"This is me being real."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm pissed, and I don't think that's unreasonable. I was excited about you. Excited about singing for you, and... about everything. Everything that you said. That you seemed to give a shit about me. And I thought you liked me. Whatever your schedule is, when a guy doesn't call for half a year, that doesn't really scream _I like you_ to me, OK? So forgive me if I got a little pissy about it. I had given up on you, and everything that I had been excited about. And that fucking sucked. So you calling and saying you've been really busy doesn't make up for all that. If you want me to be real, I would appreciate it if you could be, too."

"OK," Adam said, exhaling loudly into the phone.

"I... I was a big fan of yours," Kris said.

"Was?"

"Yeah, was. I know you knew it. And maybe you thought of me as just a fanboy, and maybe you expected I would jump for joy just because the rock star called me. But I don't really think of you as _rock star Adam_ anymore, that's not what I want you to be. I wasn't excited for you to call me like I won a fucking radio contest or something, OK? Like it was something you could push back whenever your schedule got cramped. I thought you actually wanted to call me, as like a person. A friend, maybe. Or... whatever, I don't know. Maybe I was wrong about that. But I didn't expect it would take so long, so I was disappointed. Like in the way you'd be pissed if you gave a guy your number and he said he would call but never did. When that happens, do you stop and think 'oh, well, maybe he's really busy at work and just couldn't get around to it'?" Kris sighed. "Never mind. I guess that probably doesn't happen to you, but try to imagine it anyway."

"It has happened to me," Adam said. "More often than you'd think."

"OK then," Kris said. "So, that's what it's been like for me. Now maybe we understand each other."

"Yeah," Adam said. "Kris, I _am_ sorry. I didn't really think of it like that. But I'm not... I'm not trying to be your boyfriend or anything. You get that, right? I never meant to imply anything... like that."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do. The problem may be that I don't know really _what_ you want from me, actually. I've been sitting around waiting to hear from you like a pathetic moron, and I don't even know what for."

"I like you."

"And?"

"And I wanted to talk to you. I wasn't trying to mess with you, Kris. And I didn't forget about you. I did have a good time with you and... and I remembered you like I don't, usually, with guys I meet on tour. I remember your song, I remember your voice and... I knew I would get around to calling you eventually, it just. It just took me a while."

"No kidding."

"So are you saying you don't like me anymore? Is that it?"

"No," Kris said. "That's not it. I _do_ like you. I wouldn't be upset... I wouldn't still be talking to you if I didn't."

"OK," Adam said. "That's good." He paused, and then, "man, this is not how I thought this would go."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"I don't even think I'm disappointed. Just surprised. And not... totally in a bad way."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Adam said, and sighed, sounding thoughtful.

They were quiet for a few moments. Kris flopped back onto his couch, closing his eyes and resting his head back on the cushions, trying to suppress the surge of excitement that was bubbling back up. Trying not to let himself be happy that Adam seemed to understand where he was coming from, that he still seemed interested in him in some way, even if Kris still didn't understand what he was after. If Adam was playing with him he wasn't sure he could stand it, but Kris didn't get the feeling that he was playing. He didn't understand all the feelings he was experiencing, wasn't sure what he was _supposed_ to feel when somebody who had been a distant hero to him had become so concrete. So real. The love he'd had for him as an icon had mostly washed away, but it was still there, still nibbling at the back of his mind and reminding him who he was speaking to. At the same time, the oddly familiar feelings of hope and confusion - what he would feel when he was wrangling with any crush, talking to any boy he wanted to get close to - were making his heart ache. He felt dizzy.

"Kris," Adam said.

"Yeah?"

"I have to go now," his voice was soft, now. The same gentle tone he'd used in the dressing room, his arms wrapped around Kris as he shook.

"OK," Kris said.

"I want to talk to you again, though. I want to... well. Listen, I don't think I have anything tomorrow night. Can I call you?"

Adam was asking permission to call him. How fucking adorable was that?

"Yes," Kris said, a big stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. "You definitely can."

"You promise you won't bitch at me?"

"No promises," Kris said with a shaky laugh. "Don't give me anything to bitch at you for and you'll have a better shot at it."

"I'll do my best," Adam said, laughing a bit in return. "And I'll try not to keep you waiting. Have a good night, OK?"

"You too."

Kris hung up the phone and found himself completely unable to make his smile go away. That seemed weird, considering that the conversation had been mostly unpleasant. But he felt hopeful, and if Adam really did call him again tomorrow it would be major, and Kris couldn't contain his anticipation. Before closing the phone he saved the number into his contacts, feeling as lightheaded as he'd known he would when he typed in Adam's name. With a sigh, he grabbed the _Rolling Stone_ off the couch and opened it.

 

 ****

Part 4: This Is All So Prototype  
(make it wrong to make it feel right)

Kris was washing dishes in his kitchen and doing a semi-effective job of not looking at the clock when the phone rang. It was just before nine, which meant it was barely evening in Los Angeles, so he didn't really consider it _tonight_ yet and therefore didn't jump at the sound. He was pretty pleased at that, really. His ability to be acutely aware of what time it was all day long and yet still keep some kind of rational hold on his impatience was admirable if you asked him. Which nobody would, of course, because nobody knew he was expecting this call.

He wiped his hands quickly on a tea towel and turned to grab his phone off the counter.

 _Adam Lambert_

"Holy shit," he actually said out loud, then laughed at himself before clearing his throat and bringing the phone to his ear. "Hey," he said, a little more breathlessly than he would've liked.

"Hey yourself," Adam said, his smile evident in his voice. "This early enough for you? I hope you weren't expecting me to call the minute the sun set or something."

"Shut up," Kris said, smiling.

"That will make for a very boring phone call, but OK. You're the boss."

"Har-har," Kris said, his grin threatening to crack his face right in half. He had been totally prepared for at least a few hours of pathetically anxious phone-watching and at worst a horrible evening that ended in him going to bed disappointed. Actually, the worst- _worst_ case scenario he had come up with involved vodka and the fact that Kris had _Adam's_ number, too, but he had sworn to himself that no matter how late it got or bummed out he became, he was absolutely _not_ going to drink and would thereby sidestep that catastrophe completely. He probably could've stuck to that, too. "I actually hadn't even begun to expect you, yet, so you're good," he finished.

"Oh, good," Adam said. "What're you up to?"

"You caught me in the middle of a glamorous moment. I was cleaning up after my dinner," Kris said, moving out of the kitchen into the living room and beginning to pace around the coffee table again. He was sure if he spent much more time on the phone with Adam he was going to wear a path there.

"Ooooh. Anything good?"

"Not really," Kris said. "Unless you're a big fan of frozen pizza."

"Oh, fancy."

"I know, right? Dare I ask what you've been up to today?"

Adam sighed. "A lot of craziness as usual. Meetings most of the morning, the label, management, producers, blah blah blah. I'm back in the studio now, so it's all about getting songs and finding people to work with and all of that. Actually managed to get _in_ to the studio for a while this afternoon, but I just couldn't seem to get into the zone and nothing much came out of that. Then I had an early dinner with some friends, begged off telling them that I was tired - which isn't a complete lie - and came home."

"I see," Kris said, thinking about how wild it was that Adam had been doing all of that while he sat in his cubicle all day and dreading the moment Adam asked him what he did for a living. "So what's the plan for the night, then?"

"This is it," Adam said.

Kris was stunned for a moment before he said, "you're joking."

"Nope."

"It's seven o'clock, and you're home for the night... to talk to me?"

"Yup."

"You are so..." Kris stopped, his mouth moving soundlessly.

"So what?"

"... _Confusing._ "

"How's that?"

"How can you go from not calling me at _all_ for months to calling me three times in three days? I mean, seriously, tell me that if you didn't have plans to talk to me you'd be taking a bath with a book and going to bed early or something."

"Not at all," Adam said, sounding amused. "I could go out tonight, but I go out all the time. I wanted to do this instead."

"You make absolutely no sense to me. Like, none. At all."

"I don't know," Adam said. "I kind of got the impression you thought I was an asshole. And I'm really not. A flake sometimes, sure. And... OK, I get wrapped up in my own shit so much sometimes I forget the rest of the world is even there. I just. Wanted to show that I can be good."

"See, that's the thing, though," Kris said. " _Why?_ Why do you give a shit if I think you're an asshole?"

"I like you."

"Yeah, so you've said," Kris said, rolling his eyes. "Repeatedly. Care to elaborate?"

"Actually, I like you a lot," Adam said.

"And?" Kris tried to ignore the fact that his heart had just stuttered and threatened to stop for a moment.

"The truth is, when you didn't call me back, I was really surprised. I totally was expecting to hear from you right away. It kind of pissed me off that I didn't, if I'm being honest."

"That's fucking hilarious, man," Kris said, finally stopping his pacing and perching on the arm of the couch.

"I know. So then when you didn't call I actually thought, well, maybe I got his number wrong or maybe he didn't get the message or... I don't know. It just never occurred to me that you just didn't want to call me. So I called again just to check, and was surprised that you answered... the whole thing last night kind of really caught me off-guard and made me realize that... maybe I had been kind of a dick. And it's like, so, so easy for me to be a dick because pretty much everybody will take it from me so even when I try really hard _not_ to be a dick, I can slip into it without even noticing. Does that make any sense? Like, nobody will ever actually call me on it, 'cause they all want something. Or they're on my payroll. Or both."

"Yeah, so?"

" _So,_ you were this guy that was there in the back of my mind, and it was like I had you on reserve or something. Like, I knew I was going to call you, and assumed that you'd be there whenever I did. It never occurred to me that that my being a big dicky flake could end up making you hate me, which would suck. And I felt bad. And... I want to make it up to you."

"So you're calling me because you have something to prove. To me? Or to yourself?"

"What are you, a shrink or something?" Adam huffed.

"No," Kris said. "Just trying to decide whether I should be excited that you just said you like me _a lot_ or if I'm just a novelty that you're using to prove to yourself that you're still a nice guy."

"You're a ball-buster, you know that?"

"I don't think I usually am. But I'm trying not to get clobbered here. Again."

"No guilt trips," Adam said. "I hate guilt trips. I do really feel bad, and I want to make it better. Is that OK?"

"Yeah, OK. That's OK. Now tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you want to make it better," Kris said, sliding down onto the couch, swinging his feet up and resting his head on the arm. "Why it matters if my feelings were hurt. I spent a lot of time berating myself for ever thinking rock-star-on-tour would give a shit about a random guy he hooked up with in Arkansas. This is my chance to get answers. Because you do appear to give a shit."

"You want me to stroke your ego?"

"Yes, please," Kris said, an easy smile spreading across his face.

"Mostly it was the song," Adam sighed. "It was really good, I hope you know. And I always remembered it. I found myself humming it a few times."

Kris's smile fell as he shivered, remembering the sound of Adam humming along with him. He also abruptly remembered the last few times he'd tried to perform it, how he had changed his mind before even opening his mouth for the first verse, quickly beginning to play the opening chords of a different song when he realized he just wasn't going to be able to get his throat to let the lyrics out.

"And I remembered what you sounded like singing it, and how you looked," he continued. "You know... my life probably seems really interesting and fabulous, but it's mostly bullshit. Everything is so fake, all the beautiful people, you know. There's nothing to them. They might be nice to look at but they're boring as shit to talk to, and they don't give a fuck about anybody but themselves so there's never any... connection. I have my old friends, but I've known them forever so it's not like I get sparks from them, when we're hanging out. It's like everything is always the same. The people in my life are either the ones I've always known, so they're familiar, or new people who are either trying to climb up my ass to get something from me or flailing and screaming or... or just celebrities, who can't see anything past their own pretty faces. I haven't met many people like you, Kris. People that made me... that were really _new_."

"That one song did all that?"

"Well, that was the most striking thing, I guess, for me," Adam said. "But you know, I liked you even before that, too."

"How come?"

"How much stroking does your ego need?" Adam laughed.

"I'll tell you what I like about you when you're done, if you want."

"OK. Well, you made me laugh and seemed very easy-going and chill, and didn't freak out on me... also, you're really cute. Have I mentioned that you were really cute?"

"Yes. But feel free to say it again."

"So cute."

"Awesome," Kris said, chuckling. "So why did you put me off for so long, then, if I was so special?"

"I don't really know, to be honest," Adam said. "I mean, I don't want to give the impression that you were always on my mind or anything. But I did think about... I would remember you on occasion and it was just nice to remember, to know you were there."

"On reserve."

"Yeah," Adam chuckled, a touch awkwardly. "Does that sound really bad?"

"It doesn't sound _great,_ " Kris said. "But I am prepared to let you redeem yourself."

"That's so big of you."

"I'm nothing if not giving," Kris said. "So, how are you going to do it, do you think?"

"Well," Adam said, drawing the word out. "I did offer to bring you out to LA. And I would still like for you to come."

Kris swung his legs back off the couch, his face screwing up into a grimace as he sat up. "Um," he said. "I do want to go. But I don't think I want to do it just yet."

"What?"

"I just... I'm trying to be level-headed now, you know? I don't want to seem _completely_ pathetic, but I... I have to admit I was pretty fucked up about the whole thing. This fall, when I thought I would hear from you and then didn't. It blew pretty hard. That's not a guilt trip, by the way, I'm just trying to explain."

"OK."

"I am glad that you called, though, finally," he said. "And while I'm not thrilled to hear that I was pretty much a backup plan, I do... I do kind of believe that you have some kind of interest in me, whatever it is. I'd just like to be sure it's not a passing interest, I guess. Or a novelty, like I said. I've kind of had enough of feeling like an idiot to last me for a while, and I'd like to be a little more careful this time."

"Well, OK," Adam said, sounding confused. "But what do you want to do, then, if not come visit? I _will_ help you record, by the way. If nothing else that's a reason to come, isn't it?"

"It is," Kris said. "And it's possible I'll end up feeling like an idiot anyway if I miss my chance at that. But I hope I can still go someday, once I feel like we're at least friends. Does that make sense or am I making unreasonable demands?"

"So you want to... what? Be phone buddies?"

Kris laughed. "Sure, you can call it that, I guess. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Adam said. "As long as you know that sometimes I'm just not available. You know? It's not like I can call you every night."

"Of course. We'll see how it goes, yeah?"

"OK. So what do you want to talk about now, then?"

Kris searched his mind for a topic of conversation - a getting-to-know-you starter to throw at Adam Lambert. The truth was, he knew pretty much everything there was to know about the guy; Adam was an open book in interviews and things like his movie and music tastes and the basics of his past were well-travelled territory. Kris could've answered those questions for him. Now that they were past the essential drama of their whatever-it-is relationship, he was kind of at a loss.

"Um," he said. "I don't know. Actually, I feel like I know a whole lot about you already, but you don't know me. Why don't you pick a topic."

"OK," Adam said, then paused for a moment. "Music. Specifically yours. Were you serious when you said that nobody listens to you at those open mics?"

"Yeah, man," Kris said, laying back down on the couch. "There are a few I go to pretty often, and sometimes I wonder why I bother."

"That's ridiculous."

"Why?"

"Because you're great. Obviously talented and great-looking on top of that. Actually... I wanted to hear more of your songs, I'm kind of bummed that you're not going to come out here and play for me."

"Well, maybe I'll play for you over the phone sometime. Compromise."

"Deal. Hey, you should put me on speaker at one of those open mics sometime and I'll yell _hey! Pay attention! Kris fucking Allen is singing!_ "

Kris laughed, blushing a little. "That might work. Or get me kicked out of the coffee house, could go either way."

"What was that song you played for me called?"

"Um, it's called 'Break'."

"Ah, that's right. I remember." He started singing lowly: " _Break myself open, break me apart. Leave this place and make a new start. Can't take you with me, gotta do this alone. Break away from myself, break into unknown._ Something like that. Is that right?"

Kris was quiet, feeling frozen in place and on fire at the same time. He could not believe that Adam had remembered his lyrics, that he was singing them back to him. And he had embellished the melody a little bit, like he knew the song well and was adding his signature to it. It was so unexpected Kris could hardly process it.

"Yeah," he finally said, struggling to keep his voice even. "That's... yeah. Perfect. Exactly right."

"Oh, cool," Adam said, not seeming to realize what had just happened, that he had knocked the breath right out of Kris. "I always kind of felt like the words were right on the tip of my tongue, but I could never exactly remember them. Just needed the key word, I guess."

"I guess so."

Kris tried to think of something else to say, but came up blank. His mind seemed to have checked out for the moment, replaying the sound of Adam's voice singing his words back to him again and again, hoping it would make sense in some way or begin to seem real, but finding instead it became more and more dreamlike. He wondered if it would always be this way, if there would ever be a time when he would stop having these holy-shit-it's-Adam moments or whether he would forever find himself getting comfortable only unexpectedly to be rocked again. On the heels of that thought came the realization that if this phone-buddies thing worked out, he would have a chance to find out. He wasn't sure whether he'd prefer to get used to it or continue to feel like his world had turned upside down, but the fact that it at least looked like he'd get to see which way it would go soothed him. That didn't bring him any closer to thinking of something to say, though, and the silence seemed to last a few beats too long.

"You forgot to tell me what you like about me," Adam said suddenly, his voice soft.

Kris took a deep breath. "I don't know where to begin, man," he said. "Right now I'm trying to figure out what's real and what isn't, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've liked you a lot longer than you've liked me. But it was always as a celebrity, you know. So you have a couple days worth of stuff to think on, and I have years of it... but I have to kind of sift through and figure out what's real, like what's _OK_ to use as a reason to like you and what's just being a fan. I don't want to... I don't want you to think I just like the rock star. It's weird, I guess. Hard to explain."

"I'm really, really glad you're making that distinction," Adam said. "But I wasn't joking when I said it was all real... I try to be myself at all times. I haven't pulled many punches."

"So you mean all the thousands or more people who are in love with you are right to be? Like all the love letters and stalkery tweets you get are legit, because they really know the real you?"

"Hmmm," Adam said. "I hadn't really thought of that... well. Maybe not. I guess what they see is real, but it's not all there is. Maybe they have kind of a limited view of who I am."

"Real but incomplete."

"Yes. But seriously, I do want to know what you're thinking."

"OK, well," Kris said. "As far as stuff I've always loved, number one is your voice. You said you liked the way I looked and sounded, well... I send that back times a million. I have always loved watching you perform. It was like you said, going into a song and coming back out. You're great at that. That's why I was a fan... you know, plus the fact that you're kind of knock-me-on-my-ass beautiful."

Adam laughed. "Thanks for that. Photoshop helps, trust me."

"Please," Kris said. "I've seen you in person, remember?"

"And I've seen you, and I don't think I'm any better looking than you are."

"Well, OK. But. Well, whatever. Anyway. As far as real-life stuff goes, the fact that you're interested in me kind of makes my head spin."

"So you like me because I like you? And I thought I was supposed to be the conceited one."

"No, no, that's not what I mean," Kris grimaced. "I mean, the fact that you didn't dismiss me because I was a fan, and that you are grounded enough to freaking call me like this, not to mention indulge all my angsty bullshit, is pretty amazing. I think... the fact that you listen, that you like heard my jokes, for instance, and laughed at them and even formed the opinion that I'm funny at _all_ shocks me, because you didn't have to do that. If you'd..." he stopped, not sure if he wanted to go where this was heading.

"If I'd what?"

"If... if you'd just wanted to take advantage of me, when you first came to town. If you'd just made demands, you know. I would've done it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kris sighed. "But you didn't. You talked to me, and cared about my music and... I think _that_ kind of filled in my incomplete view of you, so to speak, at least a little bit. And made all the reasons I liked you to begin with... like, it made them legit. And that kind of cemented my... I don't even know what to call it. My feelings for you, I guess. But it changed them a lot, too, because I don't really feel like a fan anymore. Because you stopped being the guy on the magazine and started being the guy I... heh. The guy I have a crush on, I guess."

"Well, good," Adam said. "I like that better, anyway. I'm the guy on the magazine to too many people."

"You don't like that? Kind of seems like that's what it's all about, isn't it?"

"Sure it is. If I didn't get on magazines I wouldn't have much of a career. I wouldn't get to do what I want to do, you know, in the studio and on stage. But it gets tiring sometimes. Everybody thinks they own me, you know."

"I think maybe you own them."

"It doesn't feel that way, believe me."

"Is it hard?"

"Listen, I'm not going to complain," Adam said. "I know damn well I'm very lucky, and I have so much I should be embarrassed about it. I don't even want to say it's hard, because my lifestyle is so far from _actual_ hard I can't even see it from here. But I can say that it is _weird._ I've gotten used to it, but it gets tiring... and every once in a while I'll have a moment of clarity where it dawns on me how fucked up my life is. How... abnormal, I guess."

"That's funny."

"Funny?"

"Well, not ha-ha-funny. Just, my life is so completely normal it's almost sad."

"Well, you're a gay guy living in Arkansas. I'm not sure that's _completely_ normal. And you're phone-buddies with a _rock stah._ "

Kris laughed. Actually, it came pretty damn close to a giggle, and he was almost embarrassed by it. He wondered how long they'd been on the phone and found he had no idea and didn't particularly care. He'd had phone calls with guys he liked before where he felt this pressure to speak, like if he didn't keep things immediate and engaging they would let him go. Like he had to be interesting, or at least if he couldn't keep them interested be the one to end the conversation so they wouldn't have a chance to. He wasn't really getting that vibe from Adam. They'd had a few little lulls - they were having one now - but he never felt the "I think I'm gonna let you go" hanging in the silence. He just felt comfortable. It was alarming how quickly that happened, honestly. Some part of him was trying to tell him he should be scared, that he was failing completely at the whole _level-headed_ thing, that he was too giddy and thrilled with the past couple of days' events, that he should step back and not let himself be so excited.

He couldn't help it, though. The scared part of him was just going to have to learn to deal, because being scared would only take away from _this_ , whatever it was, and a much larger part of himself wanted to enjoy it, however it ended.

He wondered how long they'd talk. He wondered if they'd talk again tomorrow. He wondered if Adam was as pleased with this turn of events as he was, then realized he could just ask him if he wanted to. He decided he didn't want to, though. He would rather be shown than told. He wanted to see what would happen next.

"Hey," Adam said. "Are you falling asleep?"

"What? No, man," Kris said. "It's a little early for that. Just thinking."

"Anything good?"

"Yes." Kris smiled, and he was sure Adam could hear it.

 

 ****

Part 5: He Brings Me Sugar  
(far as I can tell, I've been gone for miles now.)

It was Wednesday evening and Kris was wandering through a crowded department store - half-heartedly browsing handbags with no clue what his mother might actually _like_ and berating himself for leaving his Christmas shopping till the last minute again - when Adam's newest single started playing on the loud speaker. He stopped in his tracks amid the racks of purses, smiling a dazed little smile and inexplicably looking up at the ceiling, as if finding where the music was coming from would mean something.

He rolled his eyes at himself and continued browsing, giving up on the bags and opting for jewelry instead.

As he headed toward the glittering jewelry counter he hummed along to Adam's song - a ballad, this time, which he guessed was why it had been deemed appropriate music to shop by. It was understated for Adam, heavy on falsetto and atmosphere and more than a little heartbreaking. It seemed incongruous for Kris to be listening to it and humming with a silly smile on his face, but there you go. Kris's entire life was a bit ridiculous at the moment, and this little scene in the department store was the least of it.

He'd ended up being late to work on Tuesday morning due to the fact that it had been after 3:00 AM when he'd gotten to sleep the night before. He had said goodbye to Adam shortly after 2:00, but it took forever for him to calm down enough to sleep; he had actually resorted to jumping jacks at a certain point. Their conversation had flowed beautifully, and when it was over and Kris looked back on it he felt like his body flooded with adrenaline, his mind raced over it and wouldn't be still. They had talked a lot about music, told stories, joked and laughed; Adam had done a series of ridiculous accents and impressions and Kris had thought for a while he might actually harm himself with how hard he was laughing. And then as it had gotten later, Kris had relaxed more and more and felt like he was actually melting into the couch with the phone hot at his ear. Adam told Kris that he was laying in his bed, had described it and the linens to him in detail, told him that he'd bought all the furniture in the room at an estate sale and that it was all vintage 20's. He told Kris he couldn't sleep without three pillows, because he liked two under his head and one under his back; he had one that was a little flatter than the others, he said, that he'd had _forever_ which was his preferred lumbar support. Kris told Adam about his own pillow scheme (one under his head and one between his knees), the fact that he couldn't sleep on sheets that weren't jersey (Adam had been horrified at that), and that he almost always slept with his hands pillowed under his face.

It was all just lovely; a series of shared details, going nowhere in particular but revealing nonetheless. It was easy, lulling into silence at times but always picking up effortlessly when one or the other had a thought or memory or question come to mind. Finally it was midnight in Los Angeles and Adam asked Kris if he had to work in the morning. Kris had winced, not wanting to think about it and also not wanting to talk to Adam about his stupid, mundane job.

"Yeah," he sighed, eyes closed. "I do."

"What time do you have to get up?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Uh oh," Adam had said, chiding. "Spill it."

"6:30."

"You're going to be tired."

"This just in from our reporter in the field, live from Obvious Town."

"Funny. Hey, what do you do anyway?"

There it was. Kris made some kind of grumbling noise of complaint, wrinkling up his nose. "It's boring," he said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I want to know, though," Adam said. "Just give me a title."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes. And I will answer any question you want in payment."

Kris sighed dramatically. "OK," he said. "Contract Administrator."

There was a moment of silence before Adam said, "I have no idea what that means."

"You're lucky."

"Explain."

"You said just a title."

" _Explain,_ Allen."

"Fine. I work at a company that leases copiers. Xerox machines, faxes, that kind of thing. They come with service contracts... for maintenance and toner and all that shit. I... _administrate_ them."

"I still don't know what that means."

"Which is one of the many perks of being a rock star, I'm sure," Kris said. "It means I push paper. Deal with the occasional pissy customer. Fight with sales reps over pricing. Get my ass chewed out for processing too slowly. I sit in a cubicle."

"That sounds kind of sad," Adam said.

"It is sad. And now I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed," Adam said. "You're not going to do that forever. You're going to be a famous musician someday, remember?"

"Right."

"You will," Adam said, his voice taking on an authoritative tone. "If I have anything to say about it."

Kris smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm not kidding."

"OK, I think you owe me an answer now. Let me think of a question."

"I think it's time for bed, hon," Adam said, the endearment not lost on Kris. "You can ask me a question next time, yeah?"

Kris smiled at the memory as he stared at the glass top of the jewelry counter instead of through it. The woman behind the counter approached him and asked if he needed help, then looked a little alarmed by the oddly distant and amused look on his face when he said that he was fine. She backed away from him just as Kris was realizing that if he actually wanted to look at or buy any of the jewelry in the case he _would_ need help, and he had just unintentionally creeped out the person with the keys. He shook his head and laughed, he couldn't help himself.

He turned away from the counter and began walking toward the door, thinking that maybe a little fresh air - a shopping time out, so to speak - would clear his mind. Maybe he'd even have a brilliant gift idea while he was outside. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, he felt his phone vibrate once in his pocket. He pulled it out and flipped it open. It was a picture of a pair of elaborate silver boots. They were _probably_ for men, but they had a square heel that looked about two-inches high and were covered in a swirling design of silver studs. They appeared to be standing on a pedestal, as if they were on display in a store.

 _Adam Lambert: What do you think of these?_

Kris grinned. It was the first communication he'd had from Adam since Monday night. He'd felt comfortable and happy since then, maybe a touch disappointed that Adam hadn't called last night but not enough to really damage his high. Adam had said he wouldn't always be available, after all, and the overwhelming success of their marathon call on Monday night didn't leave any room for Kris to doubt Adam's sincerity on the whole phone-buddy thing. He hadn't even reached the point of impatience - let alone indignance - and here Adam was sending him a conversational text about shopping. It was such a stupid little thing, but a stupid little thing a _friend_ would do.

He texted back, grinning: _I don't see how you could live without them._

The reply was nearly immediate: _I knew I liked you for a reason._

\------

The next day was Christmas Eve. Kris was at work, waiting for the word from his manager that he could go home - they always let them out a little early the day before a holiday. Nothing much was getting done around the office anyway. He had managed to finish his shopping the night before, finally settling on a bottle of perfume for his mom, finding one that rang some distant bell as something she might have worn at some point. It would have to be good enough, he just couldn't get his mind to focus on the task at hand. He got his dad and brother gift cards to an electronics store and called it the best he could do. If they had a problem with his less-than-thoughtful gifts this year, he'd tell them to blame Adam Lambert.

Well, not really, but he chuckled a little at the thought anyway. They would think he'd finally snapped and he'd likely be in a psych ward before the New Year.

He sat at his desk moving papers from one pile to another, creating the illusion of doing work while one eye watched the clock and one ear listened for his manager's door opening to make the announcement that would release him. His phone buzzed, startling him a little as it vibrated on his desk.

He picked it up to check his messages, and found another photo.

This one was a close-up of Adam's mouth, lips glossy and hanging open in a relaxed "O." Kris could see a glimpse of his tongue behind his perfect teeth; the image was simple, direct, and painfully sexy. Kris's blood heated and couldn't decide where to go - some rushed up to his face to fill in his blush, the rest headed south.

The message with the picture read _what do you think?_

Kris shook his head briskly, trying to clear it and make sense of the message. What was Adam getting at here?

He finally replied: _I think I'm at work and you're a very cruel man._

Adam replied quickly once again: _I meant the gloss._

Kris let out one high chuckle and shifted in his seat. Yeah, OK. _Sure you did,_ he replied.

His phone buzzed again moments later: _I'm so buying it. ;)_

\-------

He was halfway to his parents' house when the phone rang and his heart did an unsettling tumbling maneuver in his chest. When he glanced down at the screen and saw that it was Anoop he frowned but answered it anyway. He'd been putting him off for a while now, not wanting to answer any questions, but it couldn't go on forever. And hell, it was Christmas.

"Hey," Kris said.

"Hey stranger," Anoop said. "What's going on?"

"Driving to my mom's."

"Cool, cool," he paused, as if waiting for Kris to say something else. "So... anything else up?"

Kris knew what he was getting at, but wasn't going to volunteer anything. He had had pretty much enough of Anoop and Matt telling him he was out of his mind and should drop everything and run to LA the moment Adam beckoned him - they didn't understand where Kris was coming from at all, couldn't conceive of Adam as a real person, and were just making him tense with all their nonsense. He felt like he was doing OK with the whole situation on his own, and didn't want to confuse things with their bad advice.

"Nope, not really," Kris said. He was prepared to lie, but he'd wait until he was asked. No need to venture false information.

Anoop sighed. "Did you call Adam back or not?"

"Yes, I did," Kris said. "I got his voicemail. Left a message but he didn't call me back." He'd thought up this lie yesterday and decided it was a good one. It got him off the hook from having to defend his decision not to call Adam, and also explained his reluctance to talk to them for the last couple of days. He could just claim he was sad or embarrassed or whatever worked best.

"Aw man," Anoop said. "Sorry about that."

"It's OK," Kris said. "I'll live."

Not that Kris felt good about lying to his friends. In general he was terrible at lying and did it as little as possible. He just wanted to keep this private for now. He felt that was the safest way to go at the moment; it meant avoiding not only their meddling, but also their wagging mouths spreading stories all over town and making things even more awkward for Kris than they'd already been.

And hell, if sometime in the future he _did_ end up going to LA to be with Adam, they'd still be happy for him, whether they knew about their cellphone-pal past or not.

"So what are you going to do now?" Anoop said.

"Nothing. Going to go have Christmas with my family, come back in a few days and go back to work. The usual."

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah man," Kris said. "I'm really fine. Don't sweat it."

"Sorry he ended up being a dick."

"Oh, it's OK," Kris said, feeling uncomfortable with that statement and wishing he could change the subject. "He's a rock star, like you said. I was clearly aiming too high. Um, listen, I'm just about at my exit so I'm going to get off the phone, OK? I'll call you when I get home and we'll go out."

"Sounds good. Keep your chin up, yeah?"

Kris almost laughed at that. He hadn't been in a better mood in _years._ But he was satisfied with the level of melancholy he projected when he said "yeah, thanks, man."

\-------

Kris looked up from the bathroom sink into the mirror, water dripping down his face as he reached for a towel. He dried off then stood for a moment examining himself, looking for the beauty Adam saw there. He did think he was OK-looking, really. He had a nice mouth, expressive eyes, a well-defined jaw. He was smaller than most men, but he thought he projected an energy larger than his size, and he was proud of his body. He grabbed his mom's-house toothbrush from the cup on the counter and continued his getting-ready-for-bed routine as he considered his appearance.

Yeah, he was a good-looking guy. If you'd asked him a year ago if he thought he was good looking enough to date Adam Lambert, he probably would've said no. But that might've just been because he didn't think _anybody_ was really attractive enough for Adam. He'd always had this simmering disdain for Adam's boyfriends, none of them being good enough; it was almost like he felt dating some random human was beneath Adam. But Kris had lacked perspective back then, he didn't understand that Adam was human himself and, honestly, feeling like _nobody_ was good enough for him wasn't fair to Adam, was it? He needed somebody, too. Just like everybody else.

So as Kris watched himself brush his teeth in the mirror, he remembered the look on Adam's face when he had finished singing, remembered the low and fierce way Adam had commanded him to _kiss_ when Kris was straddling him, and realized that - yes - he was attractive. He was more than a good-looking guy, he was good-looking enough for Adam. And that made him smile, dribbling a little bit of toothpaste in the process and making him laugh at himself for the umpteenth time this week. Everything was so ridiculous lately.

He spit and wiped his mouth, then dabbed at the mess of toothpaste on his shirt before beginning to unbutton it. He got four buttons down and and the shirt fell open, revealing the silver music note charm that hung on a black lace around his neck. He had an idea.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, set it to camera and pointed it at the mirror. With some careful positioning he was able to keep the reflection of the camera out of the shot as he took a picture of his chest - from the base of his neck to the bottom of the wide "V" of his half-open shirt - with the music note as the center point.

He quickly tapped out the message _like my necklace?_ and hit send, smirking. He turned and walked out of the bathroom, tip-toeing down the dark hallway to his childhood bedroom. He had barely closed the door behind him when his phone began ringing in his hand.

"Hello?" He said.

"You are such an asshole," Adam said, laughing.

"What?" Kris said, grinning, all innocence. "I was just showing off my accessories."

"Your accessories, indeed," Adam said. "Now how am I supposed to get anything done?"

"I guess you'll have to muddle through somehow, like I did at work today. Luckily I was sitting at a desk."

Adam laughed, loud and clear, and Kris had to join him.

"You are kind of a shit," Adam said. "But I kind of like it. What are you up to?"

"I was just getting ready for bed, actually," Kris said. "Had Christmas Eve dinner with my parents, hung out with them and my brother a bit."

"Oh, you're at your mom's house?"

"Yep."

"Cool. I'm going to see my mom tomorrow. So, is that the house you grew up in? Your old room and everything?"

Kris looked around at the same furniture he'd always had, photos from high school tucked into the frame of the mirror hanging on the wall, dusty yearbooks and trophies on the bookshelves. "Yeah, I lived here my whole life until college," he said.

"Do you like going back?"

"Sort of," he said. "It's comfortable, my mom is a great cook and my brother can be a dick but we get along pretty well. It's... nice to have somewhere familiar, I guess. To go back to."

"Yeah," Adam said. "I kind of wish I had that. We moved around a bit, and then since my parents divorced they both live in new places so I don't really have that house-I-grew-up-in place to go."

"That's too bad," Kris said. "You can come to mine, if you want."

"Thanks," Adam said, chuckling. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey. I just remembered you owe me an answer."

"Oh right," Adam said. "I was actually just in the middle of entertaining guests when I got your message... our annual non-Christmas Christmas Eve party. I _had_ to call and tell you that you were an asshole immediately, though, of course. I should probably get back to them soon. Are you looking for a quick answer or a long one?"

"You can make it quick, if you want," Kris said. "There'll always be time to elaborate later."

"OK," Adam said. "Go."

Kris swallowed, running the question that had popped into his mind earlier through his brain a few more times before finally getting his mouth to open and speak. "Well, you told me I was cute, right?"

"Yes. Many, many times, I think."

"OK," Kris said. "I wondered what your _favorite_ thing about me was, physically."

Adam didn't have to think. "Your mouth," he said instantly.

Kris blushed at the speed of Adam's reply, and the obvious implication that he had already given this some thought.

"Oh," Kris said, then couldn't figure out how to continue.

"It's really nice," Adam said. "Pretty, and soft. You're a great kisser, you know. Really good. And, uh. Other things that I shouldn't say right now if I'm going to go back and see my friends in just a minute." He laughed softly.

"Well, thanks," Kris said.

"You're welcome. If you're satisfied with your answer, I think I gotta go."

"OK, enjoy your party."

"I will," Adam said. "Sleep well, and have a good Christmas, OK?"

"Thanks. You too. Oh, hey."

"Yeah?"

"You have a nice mouth, too. Um. Just so you know."

"Thanks," Adam said, and Kris could hear his smile.

"Goodnight," Kris said, closing his phone and gently setting it on the nightstand beside his bed. He left his hand on it for just a moment, lost in the thoughts and memories Adam's admission had stirred up in his mind. As he undid the last buttons of his shirt and stepped out of his pants, he was remembering kissing Adam in the car. The kissing had just gone on and on, going through soft and gentle phases then ramping up into firm, breath-stealing making out and back again. Adam didn't seem to want to stop - Kris didn't either, honestly, but generally in these kinds of situations at a certain point somebody wants to move things _forward_ \- and Kris hadn't known what to make of that at the time. Now he wondered if Adam had just enjoyed kissing him. If he had liked _just that_ enough to let himself get lost in it and forget everything else.

Kris was already half-hard at that thought as he slid between the sheets of his small bed. He sighed, reaching out to grab his phone and flipping it open to find the picture Adam had sent him earlier. His mouth, wet and open and gorgeous; Kris abruptly remembered looking down as Adam sucked him off with that mouth, Adam's eyes looking at him through long lashes. That had possibly been the sexiest moment of his life, except it wasn't really, because _oh God_ , sucking Adam had been even more. In his life before all of this, he'd never even bothered to fantasize about Adam going down on him; the dream - again and again - had always been about Adam's dick, being on his knees in front of him, making _him_ come.

And fuck yes, he had done it. And it had been better than any of his dreams, all of them combined. He closed his eyes, flipping his phone shut again and replacing it on the table, his other hand trailing down his body and slipping into his boxers, where he was now hard and leaking as he remembered the fullness and heat of Adam's cock in his mouth, the taste of it. It was surreal, here in the bed he'd slept in his entire life, where he'd done _this_ countless times before, to be remembering sex with Adam Lambert and stroking himself. Not dreaming of it, not fantasizing, _remembering._

And Adam had said he liked Kris's mouth. And the noises he had made - oh, _God_ , Kris's hand picked up speed at the thought of them - had been rumbling and deep and luxurious. There was no doubting that Adam had had a good time, too. Kris had done that. He'd brought those noises out of him and made him rock his hips and made him come and oh _fuck_ Kris had spent too long trying to push that memory down. It was the most gorgeous thing, the most perfect moment, and now he had it back and could revel in it and someday he would have _more_ , he just knew it.

He groaned; the images in his mind became a manic and blissful slideshow, a collage of moments, flashes of images of Adam's face and body. Reclining on the dressing room couch, strutting on the stage, licking his lips on the cover of _Rolling Stone_ , dancing with Kris in the bar, pulling Kris in for a kiss, teasing him on his phone. All of it was Adam and all of it was real and Kris didn't have to be careful, didn't have to be afraid; his hand was Adam's mouth, his hand was Adam's sinful moan as he came, and then Kris was coming with a moan himself, arching his back and shaking. He breathed heavily, his heart hammering as his body tried to come down from his orgasm, but his mind kept flashing the images, kept reminding him of all he had and all that could be. He sighed, then pulled off his boxers, used them to wipe himself off and threw them on the floor beside the rest of his clothes.

He rolled over, grabbed the phone and opened up a new message. He stared at the blank screen for a moment, wanting to say something to Adam but not sure what it should be. He kept typing words then deleting them, each message seeming too forward or not strong enough, too cheesy or too vulnerable, too hopeful, too expectant, too intimate. He knew Adam was there with his friends, partying in LA and likely not thinking of Kris at all, and though Kris wanted to reach out to him somehow, felt like he _had_ to with the way his heart was pounding right now, he just couldn't put his finger on what the exact right sentiment was.

Then it came to him, suddenly, and he typed quickly and hit "send" before he could change his mind.

 _My mouth likes you, too._

 

 ****

Part 6: Thought I Tripped On A Shoelace  
(I look down and it's only you)

Kris woke up on New Year's Day feeling groggy and maybe a touch nauseous, but otherwise no worse for the wear after a pretty great night at the bar. He'd had fun with his friends, danced a lot and gotten more than a little drunk. He'd also been hit on enough that he suspected Anoop and Matt were actually pointing boys toward him in an attempt to help him _get over_ Adam Lambert, as they seemed hell-bent to do these days. He hadn't even bothered to be annoyed by that last night, though, since having people to dance with was never a bad thing and he knew he wasn't going to go home with any of them anyway - he just let them buy him drinks and flirted mildly while trying not to show too much interest. He'd enjoyed the attention, and all in all it had been a pretty nice New Year's Eve.

One guy had come up behind Kris while he'd been dancing and started nibbling on the back of his neck, one hand winding around Kris's waist, coming up under his shirt and resting on the hot skin of his belly. Kris found himself moving back into the mystery boy, his head falling to the side to give him better access to kiss his neck, enjoying the touch of his lips and teeth and the firm heat of a body against him. He went with it for a few minutes, but after a while felt strangely dirty about it and excused himself when the boy spun him around and tried to kiss him on the mouth. He knew he had no reason to be so chaste, but couldn't help the fact that he just didn't feel right about it. He didn't really need the added pressure of a date or a hookup tonight anyway, he reasoned; he was just trying to have a good time. Going solo was easier. Less complicated.

Kris rolled over in bed, groaning when his head pounded in protest, and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. This was his morning routine now: wake up, establish consciousness, check messages.

He was not disappointed this morning.

 _Heeeeeey, Kris!_

Kris smiled at the sound of Adam's voice, and also at the loud music and chatter in the background - he'd called him from a party?

 _I hope you're having fun! Or maybe you're sleeping already, I don't know. What time is it? I have no idea. Um... I am a little bit drunk so maybe I shouldn't have called you but, whatever, I wanted to be sure to say HAPPY NEW YEAR and that I hope you had a good night and I wish you were here. Oh wait, I didn't want to say that I wish you were here. I mean, I do, but I wasn't supposed to say it. Fuck. Anyway... um, I'm going to New York for a couple of weeks, I don't think I mentioned that before, but um, I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon so I just wanted to tell you that even though it doesn't really matter because I'll have my phone with me and you go where my phone goes. Oh my God, is this the worst voicemail ever? OK, I'm going to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow I guess. Or soon. Or... whatever. God. Bye._

Kris chuckled, then winced as his head pounded again in response. He sat up on the edge of his bed, his phone still in his hand, and carefully got up to walk to the bathroom to splash his face and find the aspirin. As he went he thought about Adam, and how ridiculously adorable he was. Kris didn't think enough people were aware of the sheer depth of _cuteness_ Adam was capable of, or how sweet and vulnerable he could be. Or how soft and raspy his voice got when he was tired. Or how he could put on this mothering, chiding tone when he was worried. He had an element of the caring nurturer to him that seemed so unlikely given his public persona.

Then again, Kris thought with a smile, he was glad most people didn't know those things about Adam. The fact that Kris knew these things, got to see these special little interior bits of Adam, meant something. Kris was not _most people._

He pulled out his phone and tapped out a message: _Happy New Year! Hope you're feeling OK today. Call me when you get there?_

\-------

Kris was dozing on his couch when the phone rang. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the time before answering - it was after 11:00, midnight in New York.

"Hey," Kris said sleepily.

"Hi," Adam said. He sounded completely wrecked.

"You OK?"

"Still hungover. Tired. Too much time traveling today, not enough time laying in bed."

"Where are you now?"

"In the car on the way to the hotel," Adam said with a sigh. "We should be there soon, I think."

"Good. You're going to go right to bed, right?"

"Yes, mom." He laughed.

"And what do you have going on tomorrow?"

"Uh. Meeting with a producer in the morning, maybe writing with him if things go well. Supposed to have lunch with a friend, I think, and then some studio time after that."

"OK. You need your rest then."

"Yeah," Adam said. "There's really never enough of that. Hey, did I call you last night?"

"You left me a voicemail," Kris said with a quiet laugh.

"Oh no," Adam groaned. "Was it bad? I kind of vaguely remember calling you and then feeling embarrassed, but that's all I got."

"No, not bad. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was cute."

"Cute? Oh God. What did I say? Do I want to know?"

"You wished me a happy New Year," Kris said.

"I'm assuming that wasn't the cute part."

"Well, no. You also said you wished I was there."

"Ugh," Adam groaned. "I wasn't supposed to say that."

"You said that too," Kris said, smiling. "That's OK, though, I don't mind that you said it."

"Well, good," Adam said, then seemed eager to change the subject. "So did you have a good time last night?"

"I did," Kris said. "Partied at the bar with my friends. Drank too much. Danced."

"Anybody interesting there?"

"You mean besides me? I'm pretty interesting." Kris smirked.

"No, I mean..."

"I know what you mean. Um, no, not really. Had some opportunities but I wanted to keep it simple. How about you? Or do you remember?"

"I remember enough," Adam said. "And I woke up by myself on my bed, fully clothed, so."

Kris nodded, then remembered he had to speak out loud. It was weird how he forgot sometimes that Adam wasn't actually there. "Yeah," he said. "Better luck next time, I guess."

"Yeah, I guess." There was a pause then, and for the first time ever Kris felt like it might be a little awkward. "OK, well," Adam said. "We're just pulling up to the hotel so I'm going to go. Talk to you soon."

"Sleep well."

"You too."

Kris hung up the phone and sat up on the couch. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of that conversation; he felt like there had been a lot that had been left unsaid, which was unusual for them. He wanted to know what Adam was thinking, but at the same time was inexplicably scared to know. He knew the when-are-you-coming-to-LA conversation was imminent, but he felt like he wanted to avoid it for as long as possible and couldn't quite figure out why.

Maybe he was so happy with things as they were he didn't want to risk screwing it all up, but then the fact that any part of him might consider actually going to _see_ Adam to be screwing up didn't make sense at all. Still, he couldn't deny he was relieved that Adam was out of town for a while, so at least that gave him some time.

He sighed, standing, and decided it was time for bed.

\-------

When Kris's phone vibrated on his desk the next day, he was disappointed to find a text from Matt instead of Adam.

 _I found somebody I want you to meet,_ it read.

Kris rolled his eyes before replying: _Thanks but no thanks._

Then the phone rang. Kris muttered a curse under his breath before answering it, leaning over in his chair and turning toward his cubicle wall in an attempt to muffle his voice from his coworkers.

"I'm at work," he said harshly.

"Sorry," Matt said. "This will be quick. And it will probably be better if you can't talk much."

"Fine," Kris said. "Talk fast so I can say no and hang up before my boss has my ass."

"OK, well, this has gone on long enough, and you need to knock it off. I met a guy - his name is John - and I really think you guys would get along. He's cute and single and I told him about you and he said he was up for meeting you so stop being such an idiot and just say yes, OK?"

"No."

" _Come on,_ Kris! This is just stupid. What are you waiting for? You think Adam Lambert is going to come and sweep you off your feet after all this time? That ship has sailed, buddy. You need to get over it, it's just sad to watch at this point."

"Have I seemed sad to you lately?" Kris said, smirking.

"Well, you haven't seemed _normal._ I've hardly seen you at all. And what was the deal with blowing Brad off at the bar the other night? Now _that's_ sad."

"Brad?" Kris searched his mind, and then: "oh, right. That guy. I just didn't feel like hooking up, OK? I just wanted have a good time. It's not a crime to be single, Matt. And I'm not sad. I'm _fine_."

"I don't believe you," Matt said.

"Well, try. Because it's the truth."

"We're just trying to look out for you, dude. Come on, will you at least call this guy?"

"No. I appreciate that you care, so thanks and everything, but seriously... no thanks. I'm OK, and I don't need to be set up, and I really don't want to talk about it anymore, OK?"

Matt sighed loudly. "Fine," he said.

"I'll call you later, man," Kris said. "You guys want to go out tomorrow night?"

"Maybe," Matt said. "Later." And he hung up.

Kris sighed, shaking his head with a small smile as he closed his phone.

\-------

Later that night, Kris was flipping through channels, blasting past informercial after crappy 80's rerun after informercial and trying to decide if he should give it up and go to bed when the phone rang. He sighed in relief, the part of his brain that knew he wasn't so much watching TV as waiting for Adam to call doing a joyful dance in the back of his head. He tried not to sound overeager and gleeful when he answered the phone, and thought he might've even done a half-decent job at it.

Adam, on the other hand, sounded like he was barely hanging on.

"Hey," he said, voice raspy and blown.

"You OK?" Kris said.

"Rough day," Adam said. "Ended up writing a song with that guy... I really like it." He stopped to cough. "But then we tried to record a vocal for it tonight and I just couldn't get there. I must've sung that thing a million times... and all I did was blow my voice to shit and exhaust myself. I can't believe I'm supposed to record again tomorrow."

Kris frowned. "I wish there was something I could do for you," he said.

"Actually, If you don't mind, there is something you could do."

"What's that?"

"Do you think you could sing for me now? I'm tired of the sound of my own voice and I think... I think I'd really like that. You promised you would, you know."

"Sure," Kris said, flustered. "Of course. You at the hotel now?"

"Yeah. Just about to get in bed."

"OK," Kris said. "Give me a second to grab my guitar." He got up from the couch, walking briskly to his bedroom where his acoustic was leaning against the wall. "What would you like to hear?"

"Anything," Adam said. "I don't care."

"OK," Kris said, his guitar in one hand and the phone in the other, looking around quickly to try to decide the best way to do this. Finally he set the phone to speaker and put it on the bed, sitting down beside it. He strummed quickly a few times, adjusted the tuning as he tried to decide what to play.

"Thank you," Adam said softly, before Kris had even begun in earnest. Kris felt like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest.

He took a deep breath and began to play, his voice joining the sound of the guitar moments later. He had decided on a love song - it seemed the only kind of song he could imagine singing to Adam at the moment - he had written for an ex a few years ago. The funny thing was, there seemed very little of that ex in the song for Kris. He felt like he had a better understanding now of what he'd meant, about the confusion and joy and somehow soaring terror of being with somebody who meant something. Somebody it would hurt to lose. Like he'd written about an experience before he'd had it, and it only made sense looking back; it fell into context after the fact. He forgot the words at parts - it had been a long time since he'd sung it - but hummed the melody to fill in the blank spots and never felt like he was losing the thread or the meaning.

He could hear Adam sighing and humming in appreciation at various points as he sang, and each time he picked out Adam's voice through the thin wall of sound he was creating, goosebumps rose on Kris's arms and the back of his neck. He knew he was making Adam happy, that this was exactly the thing he wanted and needed, so rather than stopping when the song ended he transitioned immediately into another. When he couldn't quickly think of another original that fit the sleepy and affectionate mood he wanted to keep he began singing bits and pieces of his favorite ballads. Things he knew Adam would recognize, things he hoped would make him smile. He would hum through a verse and break into the chorus softly, then switch to the verse of another song; whatever came to mind, whatever flowed out most easily.

He lost track of time and titles, didn't know how many songs he'd transitioned through or even whatall he'd said to Adam through other people's words as the minutes slipped past him. He got lost, his mind shooting snippets of songs at him, bits of melody it wanted him to play. Eventually his fingers slowed then stopped as he realized he should probably check in to see if Adam was even still awake; he thought that maybe he should speak then, but wasn't sure what to say.

"Beautiful," Adam said, suddenly, his voice low and muffled to the point that Kris considered that he might actually be talking in his sleep. He grabbed his phone and took it off speaker, bringing it to his ear.

"You still there?"

"Yeah." That same distant, tired voice. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Could you hear all that OK?"

"I heard. Beautiful. Really, Kris. So beautiful."

Kris sucked in his breath. "Thank you," he said, trying to sound steady as he exhaled, knowing Adam was probably too close to unconscious to notice the quality of his voice anyway.

"No, I mean it. I could see you. I know, I could see you singing."

Kris closed his eyes, bowing his head, not sure what to say. Not sure if he had to say anything at all.

"One more?" Adam said.

"Of course," Kris said, setting the phone to speaker and laying it on the bed beside him again. He began picking softly at his guitar. He wasn't sure what he was playing at first, but after a while it came together and he realized it was a Beatles ballad, soft and delicate. It sounded like a lullaby, and he hummed the melody rather than singing the words. When it was over he picked the phone back up and heard nothing but silence.

"Adam?" He said. But Adam was gone.

\-------

It was later that week, after several days of limited contact in the form of rushed text messages and short, sleepy late-night calls, that Adam called Kris in the early evening. Kris was just walking in the door from work when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket; he took a step into the living room, threw his keys on the table and pulled his phone out, smiling when he saw Adam's name on the caller ID.

"Hi," Kris said, grinning. "This is a surprise."

"For me too," Adam said. "I have some time between meetings so I thought I could give you a call when we were both completely conscious for a change. Did I catch you at a good time?"

"Fine, yeah," Kris said. "Just walking in the door. How're the meetings today?"

"Good. Productive. Actually, I had a writing session this morning, finished up that song we were working on. I told you about it?"

"You did."

"I think it's much better now," Adam said, his voice thinning like he was stretching out. Kris wondered just how exhausted he was. "I'd like to sing it for you sometime."

"Oh," Kris's said. "I would really love that. When? Now?"

"Not right now," Adam said, laughing.

"Why not now? Where are you?"

"In an empty conference room."

"Perfect. Who's going to stop you? You think suits can tell Adam Lambert when and where to sing?"

Adam chuckled. "Not right _now._ I will sing it for you... sometime. Just not now."

Kris was confused but let it go, happy just to have Adam on the phone when he wasn't half-asleep. "Alright. Well, fill me on what I've missed, then. What's been going on the last few days?"

"Ugh," Adam groaned. "I'm so sick of talking about myself, seriously. Tell me about you, please?"

Kris laughed, flopping back onto the couch and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "Well," he said. "I gave a pretty great PowerPoint in the staff meeting this morning, I can't help bragging."

"Oh my God. Tell me all about it."

\---------

When Saturday came around again Kris decided he just wasn't up for another night at the bar with Matt and Anoop. The previous week had been a nightmare of both of them endlessly pointing out guys and attempting to give him peptalks, no matter how _peppy_ he attempted to appear. He guessed he'd have to let them in on what was going on relatively soon, but for now he was just going to lay low and claim a headache. He would watch some movies and not keep track of the time at all, because he was definitely not just killing an evening while he waited for Adam to call.

He was just settling in with his first DVD, cold beer in hand, when the phone buzzed.

 _Hey. Felt like I should tell you, I'm going out with a guy tonight. Nothing serious. Might be photos tho._

Kris read through the text three times before he really started understanding what it said. And even then, he still puzzled over the intent. Was this Adam letting Kris know he had a date? Or was this Adam warning Kris that it might _look_ like he was on a date? Kris felt like that distinction was hugely important.

And... a _text_? He sent a text? He couldn't have called? Kris rolled his eyes, opened up a new message and began to type. He got as far as _Define 'nothing serious'_ before he was backspacing. He reminded himself that he was not Adam's boyfriend. He really didn't know where they stood as far as dating, they had never talked about it.

So, OK, what should he say then? Should he act like he was OK with it either way?

He really wasn't OK with it either way.

Was it OK that he wasn't OK with it? Was he _supposed_ to not be OK with it? Was this a test or something?

Man, Kris _so_ didn't want to play games. But then, maybe this whole phone thing was a game and Adam was checking to see what the rules were going to be. Or maybe he was _making_ a rule.

Kris sighed, then typed _OK?_ and sent it to Adam before flicking his phone across the room onto an armchair. He picked up his beer and took a long draw, then sat on the couch and pressed play on the remote. He was suddenly even more glad he'd decided to stay in tonight; he shuddered to think of attempting to convince his friends that he was happy with this bit of drama running around in his mind. Movies and pajamas made much better companions on this kind of night.

Although if he'd been out he might've actually gotten a chance to do his own _nothing serious._ That might feel a little more satisfying than distracting himself with rental DVD's.

He didn't want to though, really. As if this thing weren't complicated enough already, he was going to throw another person into it?

Of course, _Adam_ was out with somebody else at the moment, so maybe it already was more complicated than Kris knew.

Actually, regardless of what (or _who_ ) Adam was doing at the moment, Kris had to admit this thing was already pretty fucking complicated.

Kris shook his head, attempting to focus on the movie and derail the loop of pointless worry and overanalyzing before it really got going. He managed it pretty well. Only occasionally would his mind break free from the plot and wonder what Adam was up to, who exactly he was out with, and if it was too early to check TMZ for pictures, before Kris would call it back by focusing closely on one particular actor or the costumes or set of a scene.

Time passed more quickly than he expected in the end, really, and he wasn't even at the point of feeling like he was going to lose his mind when the phone rang. He was just a bit more than halfway through his second movie and hadn't even yet begun to hope that Adam might call. Kris crossed the room quickly and oddly didn't smile seeing Adam's name on his caller ID when he grabbed the phone. He felt nervous, like they were fighting and somebody was going to have to apologize but he didn't know who it would be.

It was a weird feeling.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

Kris wasn't sure what to say, although Adam seemed determined that Kris would be the first to speak. Kris felt like he'd been accused of something, but he didn't know what it was.

"Are you home from your date?"

"Yes," Adam said. "It didn't really work out."

"No? Sorry to hear that."

"I bet."

"So, um," Kris cleared his throat. "Who did you go out with?"

"Just some model," Adam snorted. "A friend introduced us."

"Oh," Kris said. "So this was a real _date_ -date."

"What do you mean?"

Kris shook his head, blushing. Of course. "Nothing, nevermind. So it didn't work out? With the model?"

"It wasn't serious. I mean, I guess it was a real date, but mostly it just made sense for us to go out together because we'd be seen. My PR people like it when I'm _seen_ and said I've been staying in too much lately. So... you know, at least I get some pictures out there. And if something had happened with the dude... bonus."

"But it didn't."

"Nope."

"And why's that, do you think?"

"Because he was boring and I just wanted to get away from him so I could call my phone boyfriend in Arkansas."

Kris smiled. "I can't believe you sent me a text to tell me you were going on a date. What the hell? You couldn't call?"

"I didn't want to talk about it."

"That's bullshit."

"Why is it bullshit?"

"Because I spent the whole night wondering what the hell was going on."

"And why were you wondering that? That's what _I_ wonder."

Kris was speechless for a moment. "Because I... because."

"Because you weren't sure what I was up to? _Or_ whether you were allowed to be upset if I was up to something?"

"Yeah, that," Kris said, exhaling.

"That's funny, because when the dude asked me out, _my_ immediate response was to think I was unavailable. Like I would be cheating if I said yes."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Weird, right? Because we're not boyfriends, are we?"

"No."

"No. But I wasn't sure what the rule was, you know. And then I thought, well, it has been a while since I've gotten any, and this guy is nice and cute and he's standing right here, so why _not_ go out with him? Right? For the pictures and everything, and for the well-we'll-see-what-happens element. There's no reason why that shouldn't be OK, because I'm single."

"Adam," Kris tried to cut in, but Adam was on a roll now, not in the mood for interruptions.

"But you know what happened? We went to dinner, and he started talking about his work. Who he's worked with. Who he knows. What fucking designers he's worn, and you know what? I don't give a shit. Like, it would be impossible for me to care less about what this dude is saying to me. And I focus really hard, you know. I'm thinking, oh, he has nice eyes. Just look at his mouth. And I try to, like, find him attractive and really _give a shit_ about this date I'm on but it's useless. Can't do it. And then I'm thinking, oh, I wonder what Kris is up to. I wonder if Kris went out tonight. I wonder if he's mad about that text. _I hope Kris isn't mad at me._ But why should you be mad? I knew you would be, and I knew that really there isn't... really you _shouldn't_. And I shouldn't feel bad about going out with somebody else, but I do anyway. And you know what's _even stupider_ about that? That there was really nothing for me to feel bad _about_ because I was thinking about you the whole time I was out with him, so what would you have to feel jealous of? That I'm eating a meal with a pretty boy and paying him zero attention?"

"I'm not... I'm not jealous."

"So you weren't mad?"

"No, I was mad. I mean, kind of."

"Oh, OK. Kind of mad, but not jealous. Explain."

Kris was flushed, now; he felt like he was sweating. He had no idea what to say. He hadn't expected this call, and he definitely hadn't expected it to go like this when he did finally get to speak to Adam again. His mind swirled, trying to find something to focus on so he could fix this. He wanted to say the right thing, but he couldn't really remember the question. Had there been a question?

"I... I don't know, Adam, I just. I thought... I guess I got into the routine of you calling and I figured if something came up, if an opportunity came up you know, you'd call and let me know. I didn't think you were like _mine_ or anything... I wasn't _mad_ really. Just surprised by the text, but I don't really think that's the issue right now so I don't. I don't think that's what you want to talk about. Is it?"

"Not really," Adam said. "You weren't jealous? That's a lot more interesting to me."

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Did you care that I was out with somebody else? Did it _bother_ you?"

Kris sighed. "Yeah, it kind of bothered me."

"Kind of."

"Yeah."

"I see. OK, well. Listen, Kris."

"I'm listening," Kris said, slumping forward on the couch, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

"Do you know my last boyfriend's name?"

"Um, yeah," Kris said, confused. "David, right? David... something. Started with an L."

"Right. Lavelle."

"That's it."

"Uh huh," Adam continued. "Do you happen to know what he did for a living?"

"He was an architect, right? I feel like I read somewhere... he worked for a big firm in LA? You met him at a gala or something, an opening for a building he'd worked on?"

"Correct again. Know anything about his family? Background?"

"Um," Kris sat back on the couch, thinking over the various gossip tidbits he'd read during this phase of Adam's life. It was weird, now, looking back on all the time he'd spent knowing everything about Adam's life before he'd even met him, how neatly catalogued every look and period was in his mind. "From... South Carolina, right? I remember seeing pictures of his mom and him, maybe. On the beach? Were you there?"

"Not for those beach photos, no. But yeah, that was his mom... they were on Myrtle Beach. The photographers thought I was going to be there but I ended up staying behind that day. Alright. How about when we broke up? What do you know about that?"

Kris's mouth turned down. He wasn't sure why Adam was bringing all this up now, or if his answers were helping, or how this related to their earlier conversation at all. He felt like Adam might be maneuvering him into a corner but couldn't put his finger on it.

"I... I think I read that he cheated on you," Kris said quietly. "Did he?"

"Yes, he did," Adam said. "Repeatedly. What happened after that?"

"You kicked him out," Kris said. "I saw a picture..."

"What picture did you see?"

"Of you two. Fighting in your yard, I think. He had a suitcase."

"Yes. Not one of the better moments the paparazzi have recorded for me. They made good money from it, though, I'm sure. So."

"So?"

"So I want you to think about all that, Kris. OK? Think about me and you and our stupid non-rules. And about me not being able to enjoy a perfectly fine date with a model. And you being kind-of-mad-but-not-really-jealous about it. And think about an architect from South Carolina you have no business ever having heard of, and how pictures of him getting dumped were a headline news story for a week."

"Oh," Kris said, finally understanding.

"Just... figure out what you want to do, OK? Because this is getting crazy, and I have no idea what's going on but I know that if... if you were waiting to see what would happen, then here it is. Something has happened. So."

"Hey," Kris said.

"What?"

"My friends have been trying to hook me up with a guy. They've been pretty relentless about it and I just keep telling them there's nothing wrong with being single for a while."

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?"

"No," Kris said, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "No, it was supposed to show you that... I'm serious. I mean, I feel the same."

"Good," Adam said. "I think. I don't know. I don't really know what I'm feeling, though, so that is kind of the problem. But I think I want to figure it out."

"OK. Good."

"Because if it's serious, then it's _serious._ As in, like, affecting your life. Do you understand that?"

Kris didn't think he did, really. He hadn't honestly thought about it. But, "yeah," he said. It felt like the right thing to say.

"I'm not sure that you do. But think about it, OK? I think... I really think we should take a little break from this phone-friend thing, and really consider what's going on. It's gotten to be a little weird and codependent, don't you think?"

"You're the one always calling me."

"Well, fine. Maybe I'm the one with the problem, then."

"I don't think it's a problem."

"Maybe it isn't," Adam said. "But still... I feel like I need to take a step back and breathe and see... what it looks like from outside. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Kris said. "I don't really care what it looks like. But do what you have to do, I guess."

Adam sighed. "I'm not breaking up with you, Kris," he said. "I'll still be here if you... if you need me. Or anything. But maybe just some time to..."

"Breathe?"

"Right. To... think. And get my head on straight. Yours, too."

"Uh huh."

"You're just humoring me."

"How much longer are you in New York?"

"A week. I got the Grammys next Sunday. Why? You don't think I can go that long?"

"No, I was just curious," Kris said, beginning to smile. "But funny that that's where _your_ mind immediately went."

"Well, I was definitely thinking it would be longer than that. You know, for it to be a real break."

"Well, OK," Kris said.

"OK?"

"Yeah. I mean... I don't really think it's necessary, but. I'll be here."

"OK. Well, I'll talk to you... soon, then. I guess."

Kris said goodbye and hung up the phone, feeling surprisingly calm. He wasn't sure exactly what had just happened, but he thought it had ended on a hopeful note, and he was just going to hang on to that. So Adam said he needed a little time to breathe. OK, that would be just fine. Kris could do that.

He wasn't totally wrong, either. Kris did have a lot to consider, if things were going to move forward with Adam. Kris tried to imagine himself dodging paparazzi and walking red carpets and felt like his brain was going to short out.

He could do it, though. He would do it, if that's what it took. And he could give Adam space now, if that's what he needed.

He hoped this wasn't one of those situations where he got all mentally prepared for a future that never showed up. He frowned at the thought, then reminded himself that _last_ time he thought that had happened, the future eventually did show - just not the way he thought it would, and a little behind schedule.

Adam would call, he knew it. Kris just hoped it wouldn't take him long.

He could hear a new song coming together in his head. He breathed in deep and slow, soothing and lazy, concentrating on the melody as he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.

 

 ****

Part 7: It Is Delicate And Lovely  
(but it's a weight above me)

On the second day, Kris considered sending a text. He went back and forth on it, sometimes thinking it couldn't hurt just to say _hi,_ other times wondering if a little flirtation wouldn't be the better way to go. Most of the time, though, he just fought it.

It hadn't been that long. He knew he was just being extra freaked about it because he didn't know how long it would last. Like, if Adam had to go somewhere and be out of contact for a week, Kris could deal with that. It's not like he'd be pining after him and gazing longingly at his phone after two days, because he could _live_ just fine without Adam.

But if that were the case he'd have an end point, you know, something to look forward to. He didn't really have that right now, and it was making him feel like a caged animal. He just couldn't stop thinking about Adam for even a minute; Kris's mind ran a constant stream of things he wanted to say to him.

But Adam had said he'd still be there if Kris needed him, right? Kris didn't exactly know what he meant by that... maybe just that if he had something important to say, Adam didn't want him to think the lines were closed. So, did that mean he _wanted_ Kris to say something? Maybe that was exactly it. Maybe he had _said_ he'd call, but really he was just waiting to see if Kris would do it first.

The very first time they'd met he'd kind of laid down a challenge for Kris, right? Maybe he liked to be chased. Maybe that was the _point._

Except, no. Because Kris had to believe Adam had been honest with him whenever they talked, which meant he couldn't make himself believe that he was lying now. Adam really just needed space. His life was complicated.

So Kris fought the urge to reach out, and every day it got a little harder. When he broke down on the fourth day and got online to see if there was any news about Adam, he actually felt dirty about it. He knew plenty of people had seen the same pictures and he knew Adam knew they were out there, but looking made Kris feel like he'd lost his mind.

That didn't stop him from being relieved to see that the only pictures of Adam to pop up from the last few days were of him at lunch with a woman. Kris thought he recognized her; she was a friend of Adam's from his theater days. There were two pictures of them leaning toward each other across a table, seeming to be in intense conversation. In the third, Adam was laughing, one hand midway up to his mouth from his lap, like he'd been scandalized.

Kris smiled, then felt creepy about that and quickly closed his laptop.

And then it had been one full week since he'd heard from Adam, and Saturday again. Kris was getting ready to go out; he could not put Matt and Anoop off any longer and, complicated or not, maybe it was time for him to explore possibilities beyond Adam. Maybe he had been too wrapped up in this whole thing and ignored other options. Easier options. A part of his mind was yelling at him that there were certainly no options at the bar better than _Adam Lambert_ , but he tried to ignore it.

Well, what else was he supposed to do? He was sure Adam had hooked up with somebody by now, couldn't imagine that he wouldn't have. That was the whole point of this, right? They weren't boyfriends, and there was no reason _not_ to just have a good time and see what happened. And it would get his friends off his ass, and maybe... help his perspective or something, who knows. Maybe get his head on straight, as Adam had suggested he should.

He was standing in the bathroom, giving his hair one last glance in the mirror before leaving to meet Matt and Anoop at the bar, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Kris pulled it out and read the message, his jaw going slack.

 _Adam Lambert: Send me a pic._

Kris's head swam, and he reminded himself to breathe. As far as reconnecting went, this isn't what he'd expected.

He set his phone to camera and pointed it at the mirror, framing his face. He didn't smile as the took the picture, but tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He pressed _send_ without attaching a message.

A moment later, his phone vibrated again in his hand.

 _Take your shirt off._

Kris inhaled sharply. Oh OK. So it was going to be like this.

He sent a message off to Anoop before replying to Adam. _Sorry. Headache. Staying in. Talk to you tomorrow._

He set the phone down on the counter and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Grabbing the phone back up, he pointed it at the mirror again, this time getting a shot of himself from the waist up, cutting off just below the low-slug waistband of his jeans. He threw his shoulders back, went for a slightly sexier look this time, and snapped the picture. He pressed _send._

A moment later, another message: _Turn around._

Kris felt his face heating up, his heart accelerating. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants, stepping out of them as they fell to the floor. He turned around and took a picture of his back in the mirror, from the knees up, in nothing but his boxer briefs. He felt his blush creeping down his neck and over his chest as he pressed _send._

He jumped when the phone started vibrating in his hand. A _call._

"Hello?"

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?"

Adam's voice went straight to Kris's dick and he honestly felt like his knees were going to go weak for a second, like a damn teen princess or something.

"You asked for it," he said.

"I guess I did," Adam said in a low voice. "You're driving me crazy."

Kris moved into the bedroom on wobbly legs. "You're driving _me_ crazy," he said in a voice to match. He lay down on his bed, free hand moving down to rub at his crotch. His breath hitched.

"Fuck, Kris," Adam said. "Are you... oh. Oh god." And then Kris heard clanking metal over the phone, and he realized it was the sound of Adam undoing his _belt_ , and he groaned, his hand moving inside his underwear before quickly shimmying them down and off. He repositioned himself, propped up on pillows, and sighed at the sound of Adam purring in his ear and the feeling of his hand as it moved.

"I don't know what you did to me," Adam said in a broken voice. "I can't stop thinking about you. I keep thinking about the night in my dressing room, how fucking hot. Do you ever think about that?"

"All the time."

"I keep thinking... about your gorgeous mouth and _fuck._ I wish we'd had more time. I wish I hadn't had to leave because oh my _god_ Kris, I would have loved to have flipped you over and fucked you. I keep thinking about it, it's like... so ridiculous that I've never fucked you. I should have. I want to... I mean, I should _be_ fucking you right now."

Kris moaned in the back of his throat, his hand tightening and speeding up. He wanted that, too. The images came into his mind easily, so many possibilities; he had given it more than a little thought. His breath started coming in hitched gasps as he thought about Adam's skin on his and the many different ways Adam could take him.

"Are you gonna come?" Adam said in a breath.

Kris panted and moaned aloud again, imagining it, almost able to _feel_ Adam. It was so close, so possible that Kris's skin seemed to celebrate and revel in future pleasures.

"Yes," Kris whispered.

"Good," Adam said. "I wanna hear you... oh my god, Kris, I swear... I just. Think about it. I want to hear you. Think about it... think about me and let me hear you."

And then Kris heard Adam's breath picking up speed in his ear, interspersed with low growls and moans and he imagined his face as he pumped his hand and thought of Kris and that was it, Kris was coming in harsh pants, rolling over onto the phone as his body tensed and back bowed. As he worked himself through it, groaning, he heard Adam cry out once and join him, which sent Kris into another round of spasms.

Kris lay there panting for a moment, a big stupid smile spreading across his face as his heart tried to find a way to slow down. After a few beats of silence he heard Adam chuckle.

"I figured if I was going to give in, I might as well go all the way," he said, almost meekly.

"I think that was the right choice," Kris said, still slightly breathless.

"Good, good. I'm glad you went with me on that."

"I'm glad you caught me at a good moment," Kris said. "That would've been awkward in public."

"No plans tonight?"

"I had plans, but I canceled them at _take off your shirt._ "

Adam laughed. "So you could've gone out and actually gotten some, but you chose to stay home and jerk off."

"I'm sorry, but what have _you_ been doing for the last few minutes?"

"I should be sleeping. I've got an early flight tomorrow."

"Oh, so you're still in New York, huh?" Kris smirked.

"Shut up."

"I knew you wouldn't make it. You _do_ have a problem."

"Maybe I thought about it, and decided it's not a problem," Adam said.

"So I guess that means the break is officially over?"

"I would say so, yeah," Adam said, laughing.

"Well, good," Kris said, still feeling a bit high.

"But the question is... what now?"

Kris's mouth fell open. "Um," he said. That was all he could come up with. Part of his brain was chanting _whatever it takes,_ but he felt terrified to say it out loud, paralyzed by the reality of it.

"Well," Adam said with a sigh. "Consider it, OK. I've got to get to sleep, I have to get up at ass o'clock to fly back to LA and go to the stupid Grammys. I'm presenting, though, so watch, OK?"

"OK," Kris said quietly.

"Seriously, don't forget to watch. And pay attention."

"OK, I promise I'll watch."

"Good. I'm gonna call you afterwards, so stay up."

"I will. Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you texted me," Kris said, exhaling with a smile.

"No need to be smug about winning," Adam said.

"Not like that," Kris said. "I'm just really glad the stupid break is over. I hated it."

"I hated it too."

"OK... get your sleep. G'night."

"Goodnight."

Kris hung up the phone and reached over to drop it on the night stand. He swung his feet out of bed, grabbed a towel from the floor and wiped himself off with a sigh. It was still early. He could still get dressed and go meet his friends if he wanted to. He decided against it; he didn't feel like facing the outside world at the moment. Staying in with all the thoughts of Adam he hadn't even gotten to yet sounded much more appealing. Maybe he'd run a bath, have a beer.

He had a lot to think about. Most importantly, something more articulate than "um," to say when he tried to tell Adam how he felt.

Also, should he put in notice at work, or just take right the fuck off? Two weeks suddenly seemed like a very long time.

\----------

The following evening, Kris settled into his couch, his feet up on the coffee table, and prepared to watch the Grammys. He had a bowl of popcorn in his lap as he turned the TV on just in time for the pre-show red carpet coverage to start.

The things he'd do for Adam, honestly.

As Kris watched the pretty people walk the carpet, the correspondents in their glittery outfits flagging them down and asking their inane questions, his cell phone vibrated once quickly beside him.

 _Feeling worn out but pretty. You watching?_

Kris smiled and replied, _yep. Can't wait to see who you're wearing._

A moment later: _Wish I was wearing you. ;)_

Kris laughed, then felt like he was having an out-of-body experience when he looked up at the TV and saw Adam there, bringing his hand out of his jacket pocket as he smiled and approached the first reporter on the gauntlet. He was just putting his phone away after texting Kris.

Kris wondered for a second if maybe his whole life were a dream.

And then he really _saw_ Adam. He was gorgeous and all charisma; broad and tall, both attractive and intimidating. His eyes were shining, his hair and makeup perfect, his suit immaculate. He wore a sharply-cut, shiny black tuxedo with a a glinting silver shirt and black bowtie. He had the silver boots he'd sent Kris a picture of before Christmas on his feet. He was a rockstar, working the red carpet at the Grammys and doing it well; he had every right to be there. He exuded power and beauty, he was walking confidence. Kris felt overwhelmed. Dazed.

He thought he might be imagining things when Adam looked into the camera and winked, then brought his hand up to his mouth and blew a kiss.

And then Adam smiled, nodded his head and walked away from the reporter. Kris kept his eyes on him as he retreated in the frame and some young punk princess took her turn to be interviewed. Kris watched Adam in the background as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Kris's phone buzzed. _For you._

He looked back up at the screen. He could still see Adam. He put his phone away, and then a man came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Adam turned and smiled at him, and the man reached up to fix a stray strand of Adam's hair, putting it delicately into place. Adam put one arm around the man and pulled him in for a quick hug, then they moved out of frame together.

Kris looked back at his phone, Adam's message still on the screen, and exhaled. That was a lot to take in in sixty seconds.

He pushed down the sudden surge possessiveness and need to know who _that guy_ was and focused back on Adam's message. On Adam's gesture, really. _Wow._

 _Thank you,_ Kris sent in reply, then thought that wasn't enough and sent another: _I mean really._

After a lot of red carpet coverage that wasn't nearly as interesting, Kris began to watch the show proper with his only mission to spot Adam whenever he was on screen. He had a pretty good seat; he was right on the aisle and close to the front; they cut to him for reaction shots on occasion and every time it gave Kris a jolt.

At the end of one segment, as the show was exiting to commercial, the camera swept down over Adam's section of the room. Kris saw Adam in his seat, his head thrown back in laughter as the man Kris had seen him with on the red carpet leaned forward from the row behind, a hand on one of Adam's shoulders as he whispered in his ear. Kris felt the hairs on his arms stand up. He knew Adam had planned to go alone; he'd even said in his interview earlier that he was there without a date. And he wasn't _exactly_ sitting with this guy, so who was he? And why was it freaking Kris out so much that he seemed to know him?

The thought of that little whisper made Kris's skin crawl. It just seemed so intimate.

He'd never whispered in Adam's ear like that.

When it was Adam's turn to present Kris tensed, sitting perched on the edge of the couch like he was ready to spring up at any moment. He couldn't believe how nervous he was for Adam, which seemed ridiculous since he'd seen Adam do exactly this kind of thing a million times before and not only had he never screwed it up, Kris had always known he wouldn't. Now that Kris understood him as a real person and _presenting at the Grammys_ as an actual thing he had to do and not just a function of his directive as rockstar it seemed a lot more intense to Kris.

Adam did perfectly, of course, seeming natural and calm and doing the best he could with his silly scripted banter with the pretty blonde actress beside him. The camera focused in on him after the montage of nominees, and in the moment he was opening the envelope to reveal the winner, Adam looked up at the camera and winked. When he looked back down to read the name on the card, he was smirking.

A moment later, after the show had cut to commercial again and while Kris was still staring open-mouthed at his television, his phone buzzed beside him. He reached over for it slowly, then read Adam's latest message: _Did you catch that one?_

Kris laughed in disbelief. In a year that had been full of surreal moments, things just seemed to keep getting weirder. He was struggling to make sense of all the many things he was feeling at the moment, all the while keeping an eye out for secret messages from his TV like a crazy person.

 _Yes!_ he replied, wanting to elaborate but at a loss for words. And afraid if he started typing he'd lose control of his fingers and _who is that guy_ might slip out.

When the awards were over, Kris watched the after-show coverage, searching for Adam in the crowd of celebrities as they milled around and checked in with reporters. When he finally spotted him, he was standing with that same guy again; they were laughing as they talked. The guy reached up and smoothed out the shoulders of Adam's suit, his head tilted to the side, looking at Adam with affection. And then Adam was beckoned by a reporter; he turned away from the guy and toward the camera, and suddenly there he was in the foreground, seeming to be looking right at Kris again.

Kris felt like his head was spinning from the number and extremity of emotions he was pinballing through. Directly on the heels of his petulant and irrational jealousy toward the mystery Grammy-man, he looked at Adam now, up close, and felt his breath leave him. He was just so beautiful. So confident. So charming. And he was really there, tonight, really at the Grammys, and the person pointing the microphone at him now was thrilled to have gotten a moment of his time. This was just what his life was like and who he was; he was a real person who lived and breathed and was born for this and did it beautifully. Kris wondered if he was crazy for thinking he could ever add anything to Adam's life, if he was even strong enough to be a part of it.

He really _wanted_ to, though. Adam needed somebody to be there for him and he deserved it too, and Kris thought he could do a great job at that. He might not be the most talkative person at parties and he might not be the most _seen_ celebrity significant other, but he thought when it came to the important stuff, the stuff that _Adam_ needed, Kris would be perfect.

And he was finally allowing himself to believe that Adam wanted that, too. That Adam thought Kris might be perfect.

Kris watched Adam talking on his TV, his mouth curving into a beautiful smile, then breaking open into a full laugh. Gorgeous, Kris thought. _And he can be mine._ And then Kris remembered that guy again, that guy-touching-Adam, and he felt like his blood was igniting. The slow build of anger and fear that came on him was so foreign to Kris at first he couldn't categorize it at all.

The after-show coverage ended with rolling credits, then transitioned into local news. Kris turned off the TV and leaned back on the couch, thinking about Adam and the future and everything he wanted to do with him and to him... and then that stupid guy again. Why couldn't Kris let those few little images go, when Adam had given him so much to be hopeful about?

He thought maybe his fear at not getting to have Adam was equal to his joy at the idea of having him. Maybe the idea of something getting in the way was just too terrifying to deal with, now that Kris had really allowed himself to want and believe.

He really couldn't tolerate the possibility that it wouldn't happen. He felt too ready. Too promised.

And then the phone was buzzing. Kris snatched it up and brought it to his ear, his eyes closed.

"Hey," Adam said. "Enjoy the show?"

"Yeah," Kris said, and couldn't fully explain why his voice was so husky. He felt like he was barely keeping it together, like he was on the edge of something.

"You OK?" Adam said.

"Yeah, fine. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, I guess," Adam said, a confused note in his voice. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Yeah. Listen, you'd tell me if you brought a date or something, right?" Why was _that_ his first question? He was thinking so many things, most of them having to do with how amazing Adam was, how ridiculously lucky Kris felt that he'd wandered into his life one night, and how he absolutely could not wait to stop doing this stupid long-distance thing. And yet, all those thoughts seemed jammed together in his mind; he couldn't get them out. All that slipped through was this one, stupid thing, which he seemed helpless to contain.

"Of course I would," Adam said. "That's a weird question. Did you think I was with somebody?"

"I just saw a guy. You seemed pretty comfortable with him, so." Kris would've given anything not to have been having this conversation. He couldn't believe he'd said anything.

"Oh," Adam said, like a lightbulb going on. "Oh, _him._ " He chuckled. "Jealous?"

"Who was he?" Kris said, a bit more intensely than he'd meant to. For some reason the sound of Adam laughing had made him feel like he was bursting into flames.

"Oh, you really want to know, don't you?" Adam laughed again and Kris felt like he was going crazy. "More than kind of jealous this time? That's interesting."

"Please," Kris said. He looked for more words but got stuck there.

Adam sighed. "He was nobody," he said. "Nothing for you to worry about, anyway. Trust me, you haven't had _anything_ to worry about."

"I'm sorry?"

"I haven't had any kind of sex in the _entire_ time we've been doing this stupid phone buddies thing. Well, nothing with a _partner,_ anyway. Not once. Including this last week, when I was specifically supposed to be getting some. Well, that had been part of the plan anyway. I couldn't, though. I guess I'm a big fucking sap, I don't know. I just wanted you. Don't let my vulnerability affect your answer, though, you don't have to lie if you've gotten yours more recently." He laughed again, not sounding nervous at all. Conversational.

"No," Kris said, hoarse. "I haven't. Actually since. Well, it's been much longer than that."

"Since?"

"Since you, actually."

"Since _me?_ "

"Yeah."

"Oh my god, that's awful," Adam said, sounding truly sad. A moment passed quietly, and then Adam made a noise that was half groan and half tsk, like he had been further considering the misfortune of Kris's sex life, and maybe a little bit how he'd like to remedy it. "Do you have to work tomorrow?" he said.

"Yeah," Kris said. "Why? It's not that late."

"Call in sick," Adam said.

"What?"

"Call in. Just do it, OK? I gotta go but I'll, um. Talk to you later, OK?"

"OK?" Kris said, and was opening his mouth to ask why when he heard a click on his phone and knew that Adam had hung up. He brought the phone down and stared at it indignantly. He considered calling Adam back and giving him a lecture on phone manners, then remembered the other call Adam had asked him to make. He felt like he was burning up, he face flushed and hot.

He debated it for about five seconds then realized pretty much whatever Adam wants, Adam is going to get, so he might as well skip the deliberations and cut to the chase. He called his supervisor's work phone and left a voicemail, making his voice rough and pausing to cough a couple of times. Then he paced the living room for a while before bringing his phone with him to his bedroom. He crawled between the sheets and tossed and turned, fitful, unable to sleep as he thought and wondered about Adam and what he had planned, the mysterious _guy_ Adam had never really identified showing up like a phantom in his fantasies on occasion, derailing his thoughts and making him feel uneasy.

He finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, and it was only a few hours later when he was awoken by the sound of somebody repeatedly pounding on his door.

 

 ****

Part 8: If You Love it  
(I can do it again)

Kris grabbed his phone as he rolled out of bed, his habit of checking his messages the moment he was conscious persisting despite his confusion about what time it was and what was happening. He was bleary as he padded down the hallway in his boxers, his body responding to the knocking on the door before his mind had even sorted out what it was. The light coming in through the windows seemed to indicate that it was mid-morning, which meant he should be at work, and that just added to his general confusion.

 _Oh, right._ He abruptly remembered talking to Adam and then calling in sick; rolling around in bed all night wondering what was going to happen. He stopped dead in the middle of the living room, forgetting why he was awake in the first place and looking down at his phone to see if any more clues had come in since he'd been sleeping.

There were no calls or messages on his phone. Kris frowned, then looked up at the door as another round of pounding started.

"Hold on," he said, vaguely irritated as he looked around the room for something to put on; he didn't want to answer the door in his underwear. He grabbed a dirty t-shirt from the back of the couch and threw it on, then walked quickly to the door and opened it a crack, leaning around so that only his head and the tops of his shoulders would show. He started to put on his "you caught me at a bad moment" face and say "hello," but his mouth opened and stayed that way when he saw Adam on his doorstep.

Kris stood up straight, the door falling open as his hand slipped off the knob. Adam was smirking, leaning back against the railing. He had his hands in his pants pockets - they were the pants he'd had on last night, Kris realized. The rumpled, half-unbuttoned silver shirt that Adam now wore was last night's crisp and glimmering tuxedo shirt, the jacket and bowtie long gone. His hair was drooping, his eye makeup smudged in great black smears on either side of his face. He looked truly exhausted, but his face was somehow beaming.

The shocked "O" of Kris's mouth began to shift as Adam's smile widened and he stood up, eventually finding its way into the shape of a delighted, awe-filled grin. Adam took a step forward.

"You must be a heavy sleeper," he said. "I was starting to be afraid I had the wrong place." He took another step, reaching his arms out to place a hand on each of Kris's hips. Kris's arms immediately moved to wind around Adam's neck; despite the fact that his brain felt like it was sizzling, somehow his muscles seemed to know exactly what to do.

"How did you..." Kris said. "I mean, I'm so... wow. I just... how did you?"

"I told my assistant to find you," Adam said, shrugging and ducking his head down to bring his face closer to Kris's. "It ended up being pretty easy actually."

"Easy, hm?" Kris said, tilting his head up and moving forward, bringing his lips to just a breath away from Adam's. He felt Adam's grip on his hips tighten.

"That part was, yeah," Adam said softly, then leaned forward a fraction of an inch, brushing his lips along Kris's briefly then pulling back with a satisfied humming noise. Kris moved up for more, but he ducked away, moving instead to his neck. As Adam spoke Kris could feel his lips moving against his skin, and shivered. "Did you know," he continued. "That there are _no_ direct flights from Los Angeles to Little Rock? Ever?"

"I didn't know that," Kris said, panting, his head falling to one side as he pushed up further on his tiptoes.

"Well, there aren't," Adam said. "I actually had to _charter a plane_." His tongue slipped out, licking a thin stripe from Kris's collarbone to the underside of his jaw. Kris made a plaintive noise, his fingers gripping Adam's shirt.

"That," Kris breathed, trying to maintain any composure at all and not doing a great job at it. He guessed the fact that he was even holding onto the thread of the conversation was praiseworthy in itself. "Sounds... expensive."

"I think it will be more than worth it," Adam said, taking a step forward and moving Kris with him, pushing him into the door frame. Adam thrust his hips into Kris, one hand moving up to cup Kris's cheek and turn his face toward him. They stood there for just a moment, looking at each other; Kris's face was burning red, his heart stuttering manically. He looked up into Adam's intense, smoky eyes, the pink pout of his lips as he licked them, the tumble of tousled red and black hair that fell down over his forehead, and the realization that Adam was _really here_ came on him like an electric shock and he stifled a gasp.

In the same moment, Adam was moving down toward him, pressing his lips firmly into Kris's and pulling him in close. Adam growled into Kris's mouth as he stood upright, winding one arm tight around Kris's waist, pulling him up. Kris opened his mouth as his breath hitched; he tightened his grip around Adam's neck and crushed into him with an intensity that surprised them both. He heard himself whimpering but couldn't seem to make it stop, his mind too focused on attempting to believe this was real to worry about it.

Their situation might've been difficult, and there might've been a few tough conversations waiting right on the other side of this morning, but first they had this. First they got to say hello, and Kris's head swam with the possibilities of the _very good day_ he was suddenly beginning. He pulled back just slightly, lightened the kiss, and took a moment to enjoy Adam's lips. Funny how familiar they were.

Adam took Kris's bottom lip between his teeth with a playful snarl as he ground his hips into him again.

"So," he whispered. "Do you want me to get you naked out here, or would you like to invite me inside?"

"Mmm, come in," Kris said against Adam's mouth, moving quickly to the side and around the doorframe, walking backward on tiptoe and dragging Adam in behind him. Adam kicked the door shut.

For just the tiniest split second Kris wanted to be embarrassed to have Adam in his apartment - it was so small and plain, not to mention perpetually messy - but then Adam moved over him, into him, bending him backward in a breath-stealing kiss, and suddenly the dust on the coffee table and dishes in the sink ceased to exist right along with everything else in the universe that wasn't Adam.

"So, I've had all night to think about this," Adam muttered into Kris's skin. "And I decided I want to start by kissing you until you can't breathe."

Kris murmured assent into the corner of Adam's jaw, where his mouth had moved to explore when Adam broke away to speak. Kris loved that spot and kind of wanted to camp out there. It was soft and hidden but angular and masculine, and it smelled so good right there at his hairline.

He already felt like he was barely breathing, but if Adam wanted to push his limits, he wasn't going to complain.

"And then," Adam said. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your name." Kris felt his knees wobble. This was _going to happen._ Today. Right now. "I don't really care how we get from one to the other. Let's just see how it goes."

Kris nodded, ducking in his head as he did so to move his lips along Adam's collarbone, nosing his half-buttoned shirt out of the way as he went. With one hand he swept the shirt back off from Adam's shoulder while the other came down to begin working on the remaining buttons. When the shirt was open it fell to the floor, and Adam reached behind Kris to grab the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head.

Kris wound his arms around Adam's waist and began laying kisses on his freckled chest, realizing with a sudden shock that he'd never seen it before.

Adam glanced around the room, seeming to assess his options, then must have decided that simplest was best, as he turned and maneuvered Kris a few steps to the couch. Adam sat Kris on the couch then straddled him, his body seeming to be everywhere on and around Kris at once. He put a hand on either side of Kris's face, tilting his head up and holding him as he leaned in to kiss.

He seemed to have a list of kisses he wanted to go through, things to try, experiments to undertake. He was sinuously deliberate as he explored Kris's mouth; beginning with a series of velvet-soft brushes of their lips, in a circle around Kris's mouth like he was tasting each part separately, then growing more and more firm. Kris's mouth moved with Adam's when it opened, and their kiss deepened as Adam continued exploring with his lips and tongue, seeming to catalog Kris's mouth and all it could do.

This was familiar. It reminded Kris of being in the car with Adam the first night they'd met, the smooth and deliberate focus of Adam's kissing, how single-minded he was. It was even _more_ this time, though; there was an edge to it. It was possessiveness, Kris thought, and he liked that idea a lot.

And Adam had been right: Kris was forgetting to breathe. He was beginning to feel lightheaded as he swept his tongue through Adam's mouth, his lips tingling when he broke away with a gasp, burying his head in Adam's chest as he caught his breath.

When Kris looked up he saw Adam's neck and dove into it, nipping and sucking at it as Adam began writhing over him, grinding his hips in time with Kris's mouth.

"Oh god," Adam sighed. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

"Well," Kris said in between bites. "We did the bit where you kissed me until I couldn't breathe... I really liked it, too. Now I guess we're moving on to the next part." He sucked at Adam's pulse point, flicking it with his tongue, his hands moving down Adam's back and then winding in to begin unbuckling his belt. Adam groaned, thrusting into Kris one more time before pushing himself up to kick off his boots and allow Kris to push his pants down and off, flinging them to the end of the couch.

When Adam lowered himself again and Kris felt the hard length of Adam's cock against his own separated only by the thin cotton of his boxers, he shuddered. Adam twisted, laying Kris back on the couch and himself over him.

"So how do you like it?" Adam said. He shifted to the side, moving his hands down to help Kris out of his boxers.

"Hmm?" Kris said shakily.

Adam ran his hand lightly over Kris's cock on the way back up, his eyes turned down to watch, and Kris hissed at the slight contact. He couldn't believe how tightly wound he was.

"What do you want to do?" Adam continued. "I have at least a dozen ideas just for the couch. But I'm here for you, so the most important thing is that it's what you want. Tell me how you like it, baby." He winked.

Kris reached up to put his hands on Adam's face and pulled him into a kiss. He took his time, mimicking Adam's attentive and deliberate exploration, considering his answer while also drawing out Adam's anticipation.

"I just want," he said, his hips pushing up into Adam, his body trying to find some way to get closer. "I just want you. You to be in me." Kissing. "Quickly." More kisses. "Right now. Now."

" _Fuck,_ Kris," Adam said. "How do you..." but the rest of the sentence was lost as Adam's speech seemed to devolve into growling then was cut off completely by Kris's mouth. Adam's ran his hand down Kris's side and over his hip to cup his ass, kneading it appreciatively as he pulled him closer.

"I know you haven't done this in a while, but please tell me you have lube," Adam said.

"I do," Kris said, moving his head slightly to glance in the direction of his bedroom, as if that would make the bottle walk out to him. He turned his head back to snuggle into Adam's chest and whined. "I don't want to get up."

"Well," Adam said, purring into Kris's ear. "The sooner you go get it the sooner I can use it."

One fraction of a second later, Kris was halfway across the living room, Adam laughing as he watched him hustling on his errand. "Hey," he called out. "Grab some condoms while you're in there, if you have any. I only have three."

Kris emerged back into the room with the small plastic lube bottle in his hand and an oddly dazed look on his face.

"You only have three?"

"Yes," Adam said, a playful smile creeping up his face. "I _only_ have _three._ "

Kris stepped over the coffee table and crawled into Adam's lap, reversing their earlier position as he straddled him. He remembered looking down on Adam from this position before, and thought he liked it even better this time, which would have seemed completely impossible to him not long ago; then again, they hadn't been naked that time. He leaned down to kiss Adam, one hand resting lightly on his cheek while the other placed the bottle in his palm and squeezed his fingers shut around it. He rolled his hips, reinforcing the message.

Adam chuckled as he popped the bottle open and drizzled his hand. "You're impatient," he said.

"I've waited long enough," Kris said roughly, his voice hitching at the end when Adam reached back and began working him open.

Kris rocked down onto Adam's finger with a moan. "Fuck... fuck, yes, Adam," he said. He closed his eyes, and heard the noises and words coming out of his mouth, understanding their meaning. He suddenly realized he was _moaning Adam Lambert's name_ and that he was actually here to hear it this time, and inexplicably giggled.

"Am I tickling you?" Adam said, pushing another finger in.

Kris groaned, pushing back. "No," he breathed.

"What's funny?"

Kris kissed him, breathless and hot, sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. Adam twisted his hand, working a third finger in.

"Nothing," Kris panted. "Nothing, god. Oh fuck, Adam, please."

Adam kept moving his hand, in and out and twisting, as Kris began to break apart over him, his head thrown back. He was so close to coming that he felt like he was already, but he just managed to hang on, to just stay on the edge and skate it.

"Adam," Kris said again. "Adam, I'm ready. Please. Fuck, _please_." He pushed down hard, driving Adam's hand further inside him, and groaned.

"You are so fucking hot," Adam said, slowly pulling his fingers out. "God... look at you. You fucking hot little... and you don't even know." Kris gasped at the sudden emptiness when Adam's hand was gone and ground his hips harder as if to compensate.

"Please," he said again. He began moaning in the back of his throat, rutting against Adam desperately.

Adam gasped. "Jesus," he said. "Oh, god, Kris."

Adam reached over to where his pants were slung on the edge of the couch, pulling them toward himself and finding a condom in a pocket. Kris ground into him needily as he rolled it on and drizzled more lube over himself.

Adam reached one lubed finger back into Kris, teasing, and Kris shuddered, jerking back into his hand.

"I'm ready," Adam said. "Show me what you want."

Kris groaned, and he wasted no time reaching behind himself to find Adam's cock slippery and waiting; Adam pushed up into his hand with a guttural noise; Kris wasn't the only eager one.

Kris pushed up on his knees as he leaned forward slightly, positioning Adam beneath him, then slowly started to move down. His head was thrown back, mouth open and soundless, as he lowered himself. Adam's breathing was ragged, panting as he watched Kris. He didn't look down to see where his dick was disappearing into him; he watched his face. Kris's lips were red and wet and parted in an extremity of emotion and feeling and Adam watched, sure he'd never seen anything sexier in his life.

When Kris was flush with Adam, he exhaled slowly, a dazed smile spreading across his face. He shifted his hips with a moan. "Oh god, Adam," he said. "Oh, my god."

"Show me what you want," Adam said again, though this time he sounded almost broken.

Kris began moving, forcing himself to open his eyes and watch as Adam fucked him. Except he wasn't, Adam was just under him, holding on to his hips as he rocked up and down, fucking _himself_ on Adam and oh, Jesus, it was so fucking good. It was better than he could have imagined; he was just not creative enough to dream up anything as amazing as this feeling. And Adam was looking at him, his eyes open and blazing white-blue in the morning light; his mouth was opening up, his head lolling back and oh, god, he looked like he was about to come.

Kris sped up the rolling of his hips, panting and groaning as he watched Adam's face, his fucking sinful face as he grimaced and thrust quickly up into him. Then Kris felt him tighten beneath him and heard his deep moan and realized Adam was coming inside him, and that was it, Kris fell off the edge and called out Adam's name, reaching forward to put his arms around him as he shuddered through his orgasm. Adam returned his embrace, crushing Kris close to him, their hearts pounding.

"Oh. My god," Adam said, his forehead resting against Kris's, gasping.

"Yeah," Kris breathed. He tilted his face up to kiss Adam, gently at first, then with growing hunger. He shuddered when he shifted his hips and felt Adam begin to slide out of him, groaning through an aftershock.

"Mmmm," Adam said. "I like you."

"I know," Kris said, smiling.

Finally Kris crawled off of Adam, pulling him by the arm and directing him to lay with him on the couch. Adam quickly took the condom off, tied a knot and threw it in the pile of clothes on the floor before snuggling up, Kris's head resting in the crook of his shoulder.

Kris sighed. "As far as Monday mornings go," he said. "This one has been pretty good."

"Just pretty good?"

"It's not over yet." Kris smirked as Adam smacked him on the ass. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Adam said.

" _Why_ are you here?"

Adam laughed quietly. "Why do you think?"

"I refuse to believe you skipped all the Grammy parties and chartered a plane to Arkansas for a booty call."

"Oh my god," Adam said, laughing. "When you say it like that, it does sound ridiculous."

Kris pushed up on his elbow, sitting up halfway and looking down at Adam. "You're fucking kidding me."

Adam looked alarmed. "No, no, no," he said. "It's really not like that. I was thinking about you not having sex for so long and that just seemed... criminal considering how much time I've spent thinking about fucking you. Somebody should. Look at you, for fuck's sake." He reached his hand up to touch Kris's cheek. Kris turned his head, kissing Adam's fingertips before pulling his middle finger into his mouth, sucking gently. Adam sucked in his breath, shifting his hips. Kris pulled Adam's hand out of his mouth, releasing the finger with a pop of his lips, then kissing Adam's palm before laying back down at Adam's shoulder.

"And?" Kris said.

Adam was quiet for a moment. "And... what?"

Kris chuckled. "You were explaining why you came here. You said somebody should be fucking me. I figured that was probably not the whole story. I hope, anyway."

"Oh," Adam said. "Right. Jesus, you're distracting. So anyway... yeah, I thought somebody should be fucking you and I thought it should be me. But also I just... I just wanted to see you. And I felt like it was _time_ to see you and I didn't want to talk about it anymore I just wanted to _do_ it because I knew... I knew it would be good."

"Yeah," Kris said, thinking of the amount of time he'd spent fretting over this, and how silly that seemed now. He traced his fingers lightly along Adam's collarbone.

"And I was supposed to go to the Grammy parties last night, but that actually worked out because I could just skip them... and I had scheduled myself clear today for the hangover I expected to have anyway."

"What about tomorrow?"

"I'm supposed to be in the studio in the morning. I would have to leave tonight to make it."

"Oh," Kris said.

Adam turned his head to kiss Kris, long and lazy, opening his mouth and teasing with his tongue. "I'm canceling it," he murmured.

Kris smiled against Adam's mouth. Adam wrapped his arms around him, shifting so that they were chest-to-chest, his hands wandering over Kris's back as he kissed him deep and dirty. Kris's hands were buried in Adam's hair as he hummed his pleasure into his mouth. As they moved together, skin on skin, Kris felt Adam getting hard against him, rubbing against his own growing erection.

"I want to fuck you again," Adam whispered, one hand trailing down to massage Kris's ass. "Can I?"

Kris shivered, nodding. "Again and again and again," he breathed.

"Yes," Adam said, his fingers moving in to tease around Kris's asshole. Kris reacted immediately, jerking against him, and Adam sighed. "Turn around."

As Kris turned himself so that Adam was flush against his back, Adam reached around for the lube, then snagged his pants from the floor and pulled another condom from the pocket. He rolled the condom on then drizzled lube over his hand and cock before positioning himself back behind Kris.

Adam pushed two fingers into Kris, and Kris pushed against him, greedy both for the feeling of Adam's fingers inside him and his slick cock rubbing against his ass. He felt wild for it already. Adam began kissing at the back of his neck and he groaned.

"Bite," Kris said.

Adam growled lowly as he sank his teeth into Kris, nipping at the base of his neck as Kris bucked.

"Fuck, yes," he said.

Adam grunted, quickly pulling his hand out and replacing it with the head of his cock. Kris sighed when he felt him begin to push in, holding his breath as Adam slowly filled him up while biting at his neck. Life was beautiful.

Adam began moving into him in long, slow strokes, his hand coming around to grip Kris's twitching cock, stroking it at the same luxurious pace. Kris sucked in his breath, then let it out slowly as he fell into Adam's leisurely rhythm. It was a slow build, good at first, and then heating up so gradually that Kris was shocked eventually to realize it was oh, god, _so_ good, and he moaned deep in his chest. He had no idea how much time had passed when Adam began to pick up speed, his level of urgency rising. Kris threw his leg up over Adam's thigh to let him get deeper and fuck, yes, suddenly his blood was boiling and he was desperate, and he didn't even know what for. He ground back into Adam's cock and forward into his hand and he could feel Adam's breath against his ear as he panted.

Kris came suddenly, clenching around Adam and crying out as his body tensed. Adam stroked him through it, cooing "yeah" again and again, the word eventually devolving into a moan as he came with a shudder.

They lay there a long moment in silence, Adam with his arms wrapped tightly around Kris as their breathing slowed. Kris was suddenly powerfully sleepy, and was shocked out of a doze when Adam pulled out of him to take the condom off. Just as Adam was laying back down to snuggle up to Kris, they heard a buzzing noise from the middle of the room. Kris looked over to where his phone lay on the floor, lit up as it rang. He sighed, then crawled over to the phone on wobbly hands and knees, quickly turning it off and tossing it on the armchair before returning to Adam's arms.

"I don't think anybody I want to talk to is going to be calling me today," he said, then yawned. Adam kissed the side of his head, and then Kris was sleeping.

\-----

Kris was jolted out of his sleep by the sound of knocking on his door. He felt disoriented as he cracked his eyes open, surprised to see that he was in his living room. Then Adam hummed behind him, tightening his arms around his waist and nuzzling into the back of his neck and Kris sighed as the morning flooded back into his mind.

The knocking began again, this time accompanied by a voice calling "Kris? You in there, man?" Kris groaned, turning his head to bury his face in the couch cushion.

"Are you going to get that?" Adam said sleepily.

"I don't know," Kris said. "I don't really want to."

"Who is it?"

"My friend Anoop," Kris said, sighing. "I've been avoiding him."

"Why?"

"Because I never told him about our... thing. And he and his boyfriend spend all their time trying to hook me up with people and I got sick of telling them I didn't need to be set up."

"Why didn't you tell them?" His mouth was exploring now, brushing behind Kris's ear and along his hairline as he spoke softly.

"It just seemed... complicated," Kris said, breathing in deeply, loving the feel of Adam's mouth on him. He pushed back, snuggling into Adam even closer. "And I think I maybe didn't want to jinx it by talking about it."

"I think you should answer the door," Adam said.

Kris sighed. "Yeah," he said. He groaned as he rolled away from Adam, then yelled "hold on!" as he groped around on the floor for his boxers. Finding Adam's pants he tossed them toward him; Adam slipped them on quickly before laying back to recline on the couch, his hands behind his head. Kris cracked the door and peered out.

"Hey," Anoop said, exasperated. "You OK?"

"Yeah, man," Kris said. "I'm good."

"I've been calling you all day, then I went by your work to take you out to lunch and they said you were sick."

"Yeah, sorry, um. Something came up, I couldn't work today."

"And you blew us off on Saturday. And you didn't answer my calls yesterday. What the fuck is going on?"

Suddenly the door was opening all the way, the knob slipping out of Kris's hand as Adam pulled it away, his free hand coming around to rest on Kris's hip.

"Sorry," Adam said, smiling apologetically. "I've been keeping him busy."

Kris laughed out loud at the sight of Anoop's face, his eyes the size of plates and his mouth dropping open. "Oh," he said, then seemed completely unable to think of any more words.

"Adam," Adam said, reaching his hand out toward Anoop. Anoop reached out and took it, shaking jerkily as he continued gaping.

"Sorry," Kris said, still smiling at Anoop's dumbfounded face. "Anoop, Adam. Adam, Anoop."

"Nice to meet you," Adam said. Anoop's mouth moved like he wanted to return the pleasantry, but no sound came out.

"Yeah, um, anyway," Kris said. "Sorry, we've been... yeah. Busy." Adam chuckled, and Anoop finally looked back a Kris, his look of disbelief shifting into one of curiosity, with a touch of irritation.

"Oooooh-kay," he said, shaking his head. "Were you ever going to tell me? I mean what the... how... when?"

"I'll tell you all about it later, OK?" Kris said. "Promise."

"Uh huh," Anoop said, his eyes sliding back and forth from Kris's blushing face to Adam's satisfied smile. "Wow, OK. So I guess you don't want to go to lunch or need me to bring you chicken soup or anything, then."

"No," Kris said. "But thanks, though."

"That's really sweet," Adam said.

"OK," Anoop said, taking a step back. "Well, call me, OK? Nice... um, nice to meet you, Adam." He turned and walked away, and as Kris watched him go he saw him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Kris laughed as he and Adam stepped back into the apartment and closed the door, wondering exactly what kind of phone call Matt was about to get.

"He seems nice," Adam said.

"Yeah, he is," Kris said, taking Adam by the hand and leading him down the hall toward the bedroom. "Do you mind laying down for a while longer? Are you hungry or anything?"

"No," Adam said. "Laying down sounds perfect."

They stripped off the little clothing they had on and climbed onto the bed, getting under the blankets and immediately coming together in a mess of tangled limbs. Kris nuzzled into Adam's chest with a satisfied sigh.

"So," Adam said. "Are you really close to Anoop and his boyfriend? What's his name?"

"Matt," Kris said. "Yeah, they're pretty much my closest friends... they're pretty great guys. A little too opinionated at times, but they mean well. I think." He chuckled.

"Would it..." Adam hesitated, and Kris tilted his head up to look at his face, finding it screwed up in thought as he tried to decide what to say. "Would it be hard... to leave them? I mean, if you had to?"

Kris's heart stuttered. "Well," he said, swallowing. "I would miss them, yeah. And... you know, I have a lot of family in this area, too. All of my family, actually."

Adam nodded, but kept silent.

"But you know," Kris said. "Lots of people don't live near their families. And... they'll always be here, you know. If I were to... go somewhere, I could always come back and visit."

"Yeah," Adam said.

"And sometimes leaving is the right thing, you know, even if it's not... even if it's not easy."

Adam sighed, nodding again. "I want you to come home with me," he said. "I... I feel kind of like an asshole about it, because now it's like. I don't want you to just come visit and fool around and play some music. I want to keep you. I want you to come and stay with me."

Kris's breathing was speeding up, and Adam rubbed soothing circles on his back in response.

"But," he continued. "I'm scared that would really fuck up your life, and when I think about... about you being hounded by photographers and dealing with all the screaming people that are always around me, it makes me... sad, I guess. It makes me feel selfish. But I keep thinking about it anyway... but dating me is not the same as hooking up with me, Kris, it's a whole big _thing_ , and I'm scared to ask you to do it because if it doesn't work out... if something bad happens then maybe your whole world is turned upside down for nothing. But I really _want_ to ask you."

"Ask," Kris said.

"No, I really need to know you've thought about it," Adam said, shaking his head. "I'm so... I mean, I thought about this on the plane, too. Thinking maybe once I got to you I'd like get it out of my system and that I would stop... feeling like this. Like maybe I would be able to leave without you and it would be OK. But I... I think it's just worse now and that makes me even more afraid of the whole thing."

Kris rolled Adam onto his back and then crawled onto him, laying on top of him and looking straight into his eyes; he could feel their hearts pounding against each other. "Adam," he said. "Ask me."

Adam's face screwed up into a look of pain. "Kris," he said, then stopped. It sounded like a warning.

Kris kissed him; softly, with his tongue just peeking out to lick along Adam's bottom lip. "Listen," he said gently as he pulled back. "You said you were going to make me a famous musician, right?"

"Yeah."

"And if that works out, I will be hounded and screamed at too. I might as well get used to it."

"But do you want to be famous for being my boyfriend first? I mean, what if that hurts your chances?"

"I wouldn't have a chance at all if it weren't for you," Kris said. "I'd just keep working in a stupid office and playing music where nobody is listening to me and dating the wrong guys and having unsatisfying hookups at the bar. Just like I've always done. I want something else now."

"You do?"

Kris laughed. "You always seemed pretty bright," he said. "But now I'm starting to wonder about you. Stop being an idiot and ask me if I want to go to LA with you."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. If you're going to proposition me you can at least ask the whole question."

Adam huffed. "Kristopher Allen, would you like to quit your job and leave your friends and family and everything you're familiar with to come and stay with me in Los Angeles, where your life will be unrecognizable and probably more than a little terrifying?"

"Yes, I would like that," Kris said, leaning down to kiss him again, ferociously this time. Adam's arms wrapped around Kris's waist and held him tightly as he gasped, opening his mouth and pushing back into Kris with equal force. The afternoon light streamed onto them through the curtains as Kris tried to focus on the kiss while his mouth kept trying to grin.

"We can keep it low-key if you want," Adam said against Kris's moving mouth. "You know, you don't have to, like," he paused to continue the kiss. "Do any red carpets right away or," more kissing. "Be seen or anything," kiss. "If you don't want to at first."

"We'll work it out," Kris said, then moved into Adam with more power, his whole body getting into the kiss now, the friction of his movement against Adam silencing them both but for the sound of their ragged breathing. Kris moved his hands into Adam's hair, his fingers digging in, gripping it, pulling him close. He felt exultant and light, wild with excitement to the point that he wanted to start laughing, except that would mean he'd have to stop kissing Adam which he never, ever wanted to do. Adam's hands held him tightly, rubbing into his lower back as his pelvis rocked up into him from below, and Kris thought about _always_ doing this.

He thought about waking up in the morning and rolling over to snuggle with Adam. He thought about holding his hand at the movies. Having lunch on a Sunday. Going out dancing then coming home and fucking, waking up in the morning and making breakfast. He groaned into Adam's mouth, realizing in slow increments that he was now _his man_ and feeling like he wasn't even equipped to process a feeling this big. He was exploding with it, like joy was seeping out of his pores and _yes._

Just yes.

Adam moved his hands up Kris's back, humming gently as he pulled away. "We have one more condom," he said, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"We do," Kris said.

"But I think we left the lube in the other room."

Kris groaned, burying his head in Adam's neck. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'll go get it this time," Adam said, kissing Kris as he slid out from under him, rolling him onto his side on the bed. "Be right back." Kris watched him go appreciatively, so content he could've been purring.

"Get up," Adam said as he came back into the room. "On your knees. Turn around."

Kris raised his eyebrows at Adam, who was already rolling the last condom onto himself, but did as he was told. He turned, bracing himself against the headboard as Adam got on the bed behind him. Kris twitched when he felt Adam's hand on his lower back, then moaned, his knuckles white on the headboard when two fingers from the other pushed into his ass. Adam murmured endearments as Kris ground back into him. It was only moments later that Adam was pushing in with his cock with a low growl, one hand coming around to stroke Kris in time with the rolling of his hips. Kris threw his head back into Adam's shoulder and Adam bent down to kiss and bite at his neck.

 _This is the best day,_ Kris thought. And then he was coming, just like that, back bowing, pushing harder against Adam. Adam kept moving, groaning as Kris tightened around him, thrusting him through it and beyond. He moved into him again and again, groaning as Kris shook against him, gasping and holding onto the headboard with all his strength. Adam finally came with a broken moan, shuddering as he collapsed onto Kris.

They slid down the headboard together, sweaty and sticky as they lay with their arms around each other. It took a long time for Kris to get his breathing to slow down; he just couldn't seem to stop gasping. Adam began humming softly in his ear, rocking him a little bit, soothing him just as he had done in his dressing room. Kris smiled.

"Hey," Adam said quietly. "Do you want to hear my song?"

"Of course," Kris said. "Right now?"

"Yeah," Adam said. "It started out as kind of this big, waily thing... but then I rethought it and um, changed a lot of things and... added a bridge. I think it's much better now. And it's kind of a ballad, pretty soft, so... I could just sing it for you."

"Please," Kris said, tingling. "I would love that."

Adam cleared his throat and hummed softly in the back of his throat for a moment before he started singing. Even though they were laying down his voice came from somewhere deep in his chest, yet was so lovely, high and delicate that Kris was just struck for a moment, stunned by the sound. Then he started hearing _what_ Adam was singing, he heard the word _telephone_ and then _brown eyes_. The chorus soared, asking _do I even have you to lose?_ And then his voice went lower as he moved into the bridge, _don't know why I was there,_ Adam sang. _But I had to, had to find you._ It ended in repetitions of the chorus, and then _hope I have you, hope I have you to lose._

When he was finished singing Adam's eyes shifted to look at Kris, who was beaming at him.

"That was gorgeous," Kris said, breathless. "I mean. Really."

Adam turned his head to look at him, smiling. "Thank you," he said. "I hoped you'd like it."

"So I can just get you to sing for me anytime now? Is that one of the perks?"

"Well, not _anytime,_ " Adam said, smiling. "But yeah, I am not opposed to singing on command. Will you sing for me?"

"Sure, whenever you want."

"Excellent," Adam said, then leaned in to kiss Kris with a smile. "I think I'm going to like being your boyfriend."

"I already like being yours," Kris said. He sank deeper into Adam's kiss, his mind full of hopes and possibilities, his body sore but still demanding to get closer, closer, closer. He wanted to just wrap himself up in Adam, kiss him until they drifted off to sleep, then get up later and go out to dinner. They could stop at a drug store while they were out, and then come back here and do more of this. And then he realized that's exactly what he _would_ do, and he smiled, taking a nip of Adam's lower lip with a playful growl.

 

 ****

Epilogue: My World Is Filled With So Many Things  
(but nothing compares to the touch of your skin)

 

Adam reached over and put his hand on Kris's bouncing leg, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on his knee.

"Shhh," he said "Don't be so nervous. It'll be OK."

Kris turned toward Adam, taking a break from staring at the lights of Los Angeles as they sped past him, and gave him a weak smile.

"I'm fine," he said. His leg twitched under Adam's hand, like it wanted to start bouncing again but suddenly remembered itself. "Really."

Adam unbuckled his seatbelt and slid over to sit next to Kris, slipping an arm behind him and around his waist. "Just hold on to me. You'll hardly have to say anything, just smile and don't touch your face. Any picture of you touching your face will look like you're picking your nose."

Kris snorted. "Thanks."

"We'll make it as quick as we can."

"OK," Kris said, turning to look out the window again.

Adam had been right: his new life in LA was head-spinningly strange. Sometimes it felt like he'd moved to another planet. Adam's friends were all so wild and artsy, they all seemed so _interesting_ and different that Kris had a hard time feeling like he fit in with them, no matter how close Adam held him when they were out with them or how many times he told Kris he was well-liked. He felt like he was holding his own, though, at least, and maybe even getting used to it a little bit. As far as his relationship with Adam went, he was more than happy. They made each other laugh and had fun together, the sex was amazing and he felt like he could really _talk_ to Adam. Everything about he and Adam together came naturally. All the other weirdness was easily tolerable given that reward.

The weirdness was about to ramp up, though, he knew. That was what was scaring him. He'd been here for over a month before pictures of he and Adam together showed up on TMZ with the headline _Adam Lambert Has Himself a Treat._ They'd been out shopping, stopping in a high-end candy store for something to send to Kris's mom. Adam had picked up a chocolate-dipped strawberry from a tray and held it up for Kris to take a bite; the chocolate wasn't completely set and dripped a bit onto Kris's chin. Adam reached out and wiped it off with his thumb, then held it up to Kris's mouth.

Kris remembered that moment well, how weak his legs had felt as he sucked Adam's thumb into his mouth and licked the chocolate off. How they'd immediately gone home and Adam had bent him over the back of the couch, ravaging him the moment they'd walked in the door.

The photographer had captured the entire scene in the candy store, snap snap snap, like a stop-motion movie. They had known it would happen eventually, of course; they had stopped being as careful as they'd been in the beginning. Adam had been understanding and gentle in gradually bringing Kris into the madness of his life, but there was no question of them hiding their relationship forever. If Kris was going to be a part of Adam's life, he was going to be a _full_ part, with all that that entailed.

So the paparazzi pictures just sped up the process that led to this. Other sites had picked up the pictures - Perez had had some especially colorful commentary - and then the photographers were on the lookout for Adam, everybody speculating on who his _boytoy_ was. The tabloids were hungry for pictures, and soon just leaving the house became a hassle. Adam was sympathetic but firm when he told Kris he thought the time had come to meet the public.

And so now here Kris was, dressed in designer clothes that cost more than he'd made in an average month in Arkansas, in the back of a limo on his way to walk his very first red carpet. It was just a movie premiere, it's not like it was the Oscars or something. Normally this kind of event wouldn't even garner much attention; pictures from the carpet would only be picked up if somebody looked especially horrible or flashed a nipple. Word had gotten around that Adam Lambert would be there with his new man, though, so the photographers would certainly be out in force. Yeah, these pictures would definitely get picked up.

There'd be reporters there, too. Asking questions. Adam and Kris had had a long talk the night before, going over the streamlined version of their story - who Kris was and how they'd met - that would work handily for soundbites and be less likely to be mangled or misquoted. Kris thought he had it down, although Adam had been adamant that he really didn't have to do much - he could let Adam do all the talking; the press had no right to expect anything from Kris and Adam wouldn't let them make him uncomfortable.

He was so fucking sweet. Kris turned and looked at him again, smiling more believably this time. Adam was looking back at him with his brow furrowed, but relaxed and cracked a small smile when he saw Kris's face mellow.

"You'll be OK," Adam said, though he sounded more like he was reassuring himself.

"I know," Kris said. "Will you?" He laughed.

"Yes," Adam said, his smile broadening. "We'll both be great."

The car slowed, pulling up to the curb in front of the theater. Adam squeezed Kris and reached over to unbuckle his seatbelt for him.

"You ready?" He said.

Kris looked out the window at the throngs of people on either side of the wide walkway, which was frighteningly long; he couldn't see the entrance to the building from here. There were rows of reporters and photographers behind velvet ropes lining both sides of the carpet, with the undulating crowds of screaming fans behind them. They were the regular people - just like he still considered himself to be - waving signs and snapping pictures of the pretty people as they passed by.

Kris took a deep breath. "Let's do it," he said.

Adam nodded, then tapped on the glass that separated them from the driver, signaling him to come around and open their door. Kris wondered if Adam had told him to wait for his sign tonight or if that was regular procedure. A moment later the door swung open and the rush of sound hit Kris like a wall. Shrill screaming, reporters and photographers yelling names and questions, applause and hooting - a general contained mayhem made all the more disorienting by the immediate and relentless flashing of cameras in his eyes.

Kris stepped out of the car, turning to take Adam's hand as he came out behind him. The screaming exploded into hysteria the minute Adam came into view, like somebody had just cranked the crowd's volume. Adam waved to the crowd with his free hand, then squeezed Kris's and looked down at him with a reassuring smile. Kris's smiled back, returning the squeeze, and realized disjointedly that this moment was being recorded from all angles, that if nothing juicier happened tonight images of this exchange of loving looks would be all over the web tomorrow morning.

Weird.

Adam turned and began heading down the carpet and Kris kept pace, walking at his side. He threw his shoulders back and held his head up as they approached the first reporter, determined to at least look confident even if he didn't necessarily feel it. He tried to find his brightest, most amiable smile and wear it believably.

"Adam!" the reporter called; she was a red-headed woman probably in her mid-forties, waving frantically in their direction. Adam smiled as they walked toward her. "Oh my god, am I getting you _first?_ " she said giddily.

"You are," Adam said cheerfully, mimicking her excitement.

"Awesome, awesome," she said. "OK, first things first. Would you like to introduce me to your friend?" She pointed her microphone at Adam, but her eyes were on Kris, her thrill at getting first dibs on him barely contained.

"This is Kris Allen," Adam said, releasing his hand and instead winding his arm around his waist. "My boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" she exclaimed. " _Wow._ And how did you two meet?"

"I met him while I was on tour last summer, actually," Adam said. "At my Little Rock stop. We hit it off right away, but it took us a while to get our act together, I guess." He laughed easily, like he was talking to a friend. He was so good at this.

"And have you always been a fan of Adam's, Kris?" the reporter asked. When she pointed the microphone at Kris he momentarily felt lightheaded and glanced over at Adam. If Adam was worried or nervous for Kris, his face didn't betray it; he just looked down at him with an expectant smile, like he was curious to know the answer to the question. But Kris knew if he foundered or seemed uncomfortable at all, Adam would swoop in and take over, and that was comforting.

"Yes, actually," Kris said, surprised at how normal and conversational his voice sounded. "I've been a fan of Adam's since the first time I saw him." He looked back up at Adam, beaming despite himself, suddenly overcome with a rush of pride at being here with him. Adam winked at him.

"So it must've been pretty exciting that he took such an interest in you."

"Exciting, yeah," Kris said. "You could say that." He laughed, not sure whether to elaborate.

"I definitely think I'm the lucky one in this case," Adam said.

"That's so cute," she cooed. "So how long have you been together?"

They answered a few more quick questions, Adam taking the lead and keeping things light but open, as he always did. After a moment Adam told the reporter he had to move on, and they made their way further down the carpet, stopping at various points to smile for a barrage of cameras as people yelled Adam's name at them. They spoke to more reporters, answered more questions. Mostly it was the same thing over and over again, introducing Kris, telling the story of how they'd met in varying levels of detail (Kris was unsure whether Adam just got to feeling silly or just felt especially comfortable with that particular reporter when he told one version of the story that included them making out in the car the night they met). Some of them even asked Adam questions about the album he had coming out later in the year, and a few times Adam mentioned that Kris was a musician too and that they were working on a few things for him. Only a few reporters made Kris squirm, one asking him how the sex was and another asking if they had any plans to marry or have kids. Adam took control in those situations, shutting the intruding correspondent down with humor and moving on, short-circuiting any moment that got too awkward before Kris even had time to sweat.

Eventually Kris's name began filtering through the line of media, and by the time they were approaching the door to the theater the photographers were yelling it along with Adam's. It was surreal; even moreso when Kris suddenly realized that this was the _first_ time he was hearing his name screamed by the paparazzi, but certainly not the last.

The last reporter they spoke to knew it before they reached him, squealing "this must be Kris!" when they walked up to him.

"It is," Adam said.

"I have to say," the reporter said. "You two make an absolutely beautiful couple. I mean, really, stunning."

"Thank you," Adam said, pulling Kris in closer and looking down at him affectionately. "He is gorgeous, isn't he?"

"Absolutely," the man said, raising one eyebrow at Adam, surprised. "Well, Adam. Can we say that you're really off the market now?"

"Really and truly," he answered, grinning. "And happy about it."

"How'd you manage that, Kris?"

Kris blew out a long breath as he looked at the microphone pointed at him, then up at Adam, then back at the reporter. "I have no idea," he said truthfully, and laughed. "But whatever I did, I'm glad it worked."

The reporter smiled indulgently at them as Adam thanked him and said goodbye, leading Kris away and toward the door. Once they were in the shadow of the wide arch that stretched over the entrance, Adam turned to face Kris and pull him in close, his arms slipping around his waist. Kris rested his hands lightly on Adam's chest as he looked up at him, smiling.

"You are amazing," Adam said. "That was... great. You did perfectly."

"Thank you," Kris said. "But you're the amazing one. I'm just your arm candy."

Adam laughed, then leaned down to kiss Kris softly, pulling him in tight as their lips moved together, gentle and slow.

The storm of flashes began immediately; Kris felt like he was seeing fireworks through his closed eyelids, and when he opened them in surprise he was blinded. He pulled away from the kiss with a shaky laugh then said, "I think they can still see us."

"Let them," Adam said, then pulled Kris in to kiss him again.

 ****

~*~  
The End


End file.
